On Deadly Ground
by Andorian Ice Princess-AIP
Summary: SQL to Inside Man. A ruthless enemy comes back for vengeance against Ed and Wordy; kidnapping them and pitting them against deadly odds, threatening their future and straining their friendship. CHAP 8 UP NOW
1. Vengenace for Hire

**Title: On Deadly Ground  
****Chapter 1 – Vengeance for Hire **

**Summary:** **SQL to Inside Man.** A ruthless enemy comes back for vengeance against Ed and Wordy; pitting them against deadly odds, threatening their future and straining their friendship.

**Disclaimer: ** If you don't know by now you need to read more of my stories. I don't own FP if I did Ed Lane would be all mine lol and all names not associated with Flashpoint come from a random name generator, any resemblance is pure coincidence.

**A/N:** Okay so yes this is the sequel to my very first Ed/Wordy adventure, Inside Man, a short 4 chappy action packed ficlet that finished a bit open ended (hopefully you all got to read that first b/c this just jumps right into the action!). I wanted to come back and tie up a few loose ends (pardon the pun lol). So I hope you all what Alice has come up with!

* * *

Ed slowly feels his world coming back to him, his head pounding and the cold around him starting to nip at his exposed skin. But as soon as he tries to move he finds his movements are hampered by the fact that his wrists are tightly bound in front and his calls for answers muted by a thick cloth was still wedged between his teeth.

His mind flashes images of himself and Wordy being attacked by four men in the alley, being rendered unconscious due to chloroform and then waking up…here. But where is here? And what happened to Wordy?

Ed's fingers yank the cloth down, his eyes squinting into the darkness around him, a form to his right finally starting to stir, causing his eyes to immediately look downward. "Wo…Wordy," he coughs as he tugs the cloth out of his friends mouth. "Hey Wordy…wake up."

"Ed…what…happened?" Wordy asks as he tries to sit up. "What the…hell?" He grimaces as he rises to a seated position, his head also pounding and his lightly clad frame now feeling the effects of the cold air around them.

"You okay?" Ed wonders in concern, unable to really see any kind of physical wounds in the darkness, the sky around them lit only by a semi-clouded moon and a few twinkling stars.

"My head hurts…you?"

"Yeah mine too and I can't find my damn knife."

"And our jackets are missing and we in the middle of…" Wordy's voice dies out as he looks around the frozen landscape dotted with a few trees, boulders and a thick dusting of frost twinkling under the bright moonlight. "Where are we?"

"Outskirts of town would be my guess," Ed guesses in error, as he too looks around not realizing he was nowhere near home; his body starting to shiver from the fact that his heavy winter jacket was missing and he was wearing only a sweater and undershirt.

"Those guys…that jumped us," Wordy groans. "Was this their idea…of a damn joke?"

"No idea, but if so, then hopefully that was all it was. Okay we gotta find something to cut ourselves free and…" Ed's voice is interrupted by the sound of a gunshot.

"What the hell?" Wordy growls as he and Ed freeze in place.

Both of them look up to see a dark shadow with the outline of a rifle raised in the air, blackened against the moonlit landscape.

_"Rise and shine boys!" The male voice calls out with a distinct smugness in the tone._

"Who are you?" Ed calls out as he slowly tries to stand up, his pounding head begging for him to remain in place on his knees.

_"Good evening Constable Lane…Constable Wordsworth."_

"He knows us…what's going on?" Ed lightly stammers.

"Are you the man that is responsible for this?" Wordy's angry tone matches that of Ed's as he demands the second question.

_"Partly." _

"Partly? What does that mean? Who are you and what do you want?" Ed asks as he takes a step forward, instantly freezing in place as another shot pierces the following silence.

_"Stay where you are Constable Lane…or else. I have a message for you both."_

"Fine let's have it!" Wordy grumbles.

_"You two honestly didn't think that little stunt you both pulled a few weeks back would be passed over without a little bit of retribution did you?"_

"Come out here and face us like a man and we'll end this right now," Ed demands in frustration.

_"I like it here!"_

"Who are you?"

_"Well Ed…I can call you Ed right?" The dark shadow snickers, making Ed grit his teeth. "My employer has enough money to be able to pay people very well to do his dirty work; he doesn't have to face you if he doesn't feel like it and well right now he doesn't feel like being here in person. That's part of the perks of the job for me. My employer doesn't much like the cold or hunting at night but I like both."_

"Quit the damn mind games already and tell us what's going on."

_"Survival of the fittest," the voice changes to a more serious tone. "Yours most importantly. You have the small task of getting yourselves free and trying to out run my team. Course there are also the elements and a few locals you'll also have to contend with as well."_

"Pardon? Is he serious?" Ed huffs in an angry undertone. "Are you serious?"

_"Very."_

"Who are you?" Wordy asks again.

_"Me? I'm no one."_

"Fine, who's your damn employer?" Ed challenges.

_"Darren Lockhart."_

"Ed!"

"Oh damn it," Ed curses under his breath, his ears picking up something in the distance; the darkened landscape keeping their impending doom hidden. He looks sharply to the right and then back at Wordy.

"What is it?" Wordy asks in concern as the moonlight casts eerie shadows of Ed's sudden panic-stricken expression.

_"That gentleman is vengeance," the dark shadow states in a mocking tone before the rifle is lowered and aimed at them._

"Wordy…we gotta move now!"

XXXXXXXX

**~Monday, 1 week earlier~**

It had been a few weeks after Ed had inadvertently stumbled upon one of Wordy's drug busts and ended up a hostage, nearly getting himself and his best friend killed and putting a certain strain on their friendship at the time. Thankfully a little Guns & Gang's intervention saved their asses, earning each of them a stern lecture and some comments made on their confidential personnel files but no suspensions or professional backlash – as of yet. The two of them quickly working to resolve their strained dealings and get back to the strong bond they had both been accustomed to.

"Earth to Ed," Spike's voice calls to their team leader, Ed's mind instantly snapping from its slightly dazed stupor and making him look over at Spike's wondering expression.

"Lost in thought," Ed mentions as he glances over at Wordy's empty locker and then puts on a tight lipped smile for Spike.

"Better than lost in space," Spike smirks as he turns away with a small frown. It really wasn't any secret to the team that Wordy's fresh absence had and was still affecting their stoic team leader, but he would just never verbalize it openly; especially in front of Raf. It wasn't fair. Wordy's choice to leave was his own, something Ed still couldn't get past at times or agree with. _'But he's on medication that could keep the symptoms…' _his mind recalls Greg's interjection just before Wordy confirmed he was leaving.

_'You coulda taken the medication until….' _Ed had tried to argue back on the dark road just after Wordy had rescued him from his mob kidnapping.

_'Trust me I looked at all the angles. I didn't want to leave either, but I couldn't take that chance with any of your lives. One day it could depend on me and in that moment…if I have a tremor…what if it was your life? And it was my choice and in that moment I failed you? Ed…I couldn't live with myself if something happened because of me.'_

As much as Ed had tried to reason and rationalize it, Wordy was right; if in that instant he had a tremor and either fired too soon or too late it could cost him more than a career change and he wasn't willing to live with that. But it just wasn't the same without Wordy there at his side, either on a call or even just patrolling; he just seemed know what Ed needed him to do without usually having to ask. No one else had that.

Ed grabs his jacket and heads for the exit door, thankful that he and Wordy still were able to socialize on the weekends as much as possible and work together on the odd case. He heads for his car but stops as he nears and looks around into the dimly lit parking lot, his eyes narrowing as he feels a pair of eyes watching him but can't pick out anything to return the gaze. Brushing it off as fatigue Ed gets into his car and heads for Wordy's precinct, needing to drop something off before he heads for home.

The drive to his precinct always heightens his anxiety because it still wasn't right that they were separated by what he feels is just a technicality. Ed arrives at the building and then looks at the exterior, taking a deep breath and heading inside. But as he turns and heads down the hallway leading to the Guns & Gangs area he hears loud angry talking and stops to watch the scene unfold. Wordy was standing beside his superior while two other men were practically in their faces about something.

Ed catches Wordy's eye; gets a small nod and hangs back until given the silent all clear to enter.

"My client…"

"Your client is a material accomplice and was arrested fair and square," Wordy's superior argues back. "The charges will not be dropped and if you have any other questions talk to crown counsel, this matter is now closed. The arrest was solid and I'm standing behind it."

"My…"

About ten minutes later, Ed watches the group disperse and Wordy pull away from his boss and head toward him with a perplexed expression, making Ed's concern for his friend blossom. "What's goin' on?"

"Remember our friend Spencer Ryan?" Wordy asks, referring to the inside man that had ultimately double crossed his former boss Cody Hanson and had kidnapped Ed and was about to take him to Darren Lockhart, one of the city's biggest and most notorious and so far untouchable crime bosses as a peace offering; Ed's death earning him a top spot in the organization.

"Yeah. What'd he do now?"

"He's trying to argue about my arrest."

"Still?"

"Said he's gotten new information."

"From another insider?" Ed asks in concern.

"Must be, he's been in jail this whole time. I know our team took out the last one but with the kind of money Lockhart can afford to hand out, he could buy anyone with that weakness, it wouldn't take much. And we both know what kind of gift of the gab Spencer has…so yeah who knows. It's a big mess though."

"Any chance he'll walk on a technicality?"

"No they got him for a few other things as well. Thankfully he's gonna stay put for a good many years. What are you doing here?"

"Came to return this," Ed hands Wordy a small box.

"Hey you finally found it," Wordy opens the handmade wooden box to reveal a few fishing lures.

"In my defense I was busy. Wordy you sure that…" Ed pauses as he watches Spencer turn and glare directly at them before disappearing around a corner and down the hall. "I don't trust that guy."

"No one does."

"And you're sure he can't walk."

"Stop worrying okay?" Wordy interrupts Ed and looks at him with a serious expression. "You've taken the heat for me a few times over the past twenty years."

"So you are in trouble?" Ed asks in defeat.

"Nothing major and thankfully for you it wasn't sanctioned. It's gonna be okay, trust me."

"And Lockhart? Any dealings with him?"

"Not directly, but yesterday we did take down another so called safe house. The city is closing in around him."

"Good."

"What?" Wordy looks at Ed in wonder.

"Nothin'," Ed shakes his head as he looks over at the wall clock. "I gotta run."

"Damn you suck at lying," Wordy chuckles. "I guess it's a good thing you know what I do on a daily basis."

"Yeah I guess so," Ed replies with a small smile.

"What is it?"

"Just worry is all. That's it."

"I just keep my head up and my eyes open…you taught me that right?"

"Right."

"Ed."

"Look Lockhart is…he's a cold blooded killer and…and you screwed him over with my help…and that's all."

"You worry."

"I worry. I worry okay? And I suck at confessing that so there you go."

"Well knowing how much you still like to rush in where angels fear to tread I guess we both give each other cause for concern," Wordy relates in truth, getting a small nod from Ed in return. "Trust me it's fine."

"Okay. And we're still on for this weekend?"

"Ice fishing…really?"

"It's just for the day. What, you getting soft in your old age?" Ed teases as he turns to leave.

"Oh and you're a fan of the cold?"

"It'll be a few hours at most."

"See you Saturday morning."

"Bright and early," Ed calls back with a wave in the air.

On the drive home, Ed can't help but think about how his thoughtless actions a few weeks back have impacted his best friend even now. Of course Darren Lockhart wasn't a man to suffer lightly, as any of his victims could well attest to if given the chance to come back and freely admit without further repercussion. And of course he wasn't just going to sit around praising the police for all their good and hard work at slowly bringing his empire to a grinding halt. He would want retribution – anyway possible. Hence Ed can't help but worry about his best friend walking into dangerous situations on a daily basis; so much for this being a better move.

"Damn it Wordy," Ed gently curses in frustration, not anger.

_'It was this or a desk job and I think you know how much I love paperwork…about as much as you do,' _Wordy had told him a few months back just after he started his new role. And of course he worried about his condition and how it would affect his home life in the long run. It just wasn't something either were prepared for, nor discussed much about in the open.

'_I'm not in denial,' _Ed had told Greg one day after Wordy had left and his boss had noticed him having an off day. '_But I just don't want to think about it on a daily basis either.'_

_'Doesn't hurt to talk about it.'_

_'I don't talk.'_

_'I know you don't but sometimes…you have to…to keep yourself sane and the team safe.'_

Ed looks up into his rear view mirror and frowns at the car that he thought had been following him for a few blocks now. But the car turns off behind him and Ed scolds himself for being overly paranoid. Truth was it was after the run in with Spencer Ryan and his selling out his then business partner and offering Ed as a helpless prisoner to Darren Lockhart that still makes him shudder and fosters the small roots of paranoia growing inside his gut. And the more Wordy has to do with Lockhart and the slow disassembly of his corrupt empire, the deeper those feelings of paranoia would be rooted. He couldn't help it. Lockhart was evil and ruthless and would think of nothing of taking out Wordy with the blink of an eye.

"Damn it," Ed lets out a small curse as he turns the car into the drive way at home. But he would quickly shelve those feelings of fear upon arrival inside his home, not wanting to needlessly worry his wife, son or newborn daughter; well more so than he fears he already does.

XXXXXXXX

By Wednesday morning, Ed's mind had started to settle a bit more, having talked to Wordy the night before about another matter and thankful that he didn't bring up any other fallout from the Lockhart investigation. _Maybe things have died down now, _Ed's mind muses as he heads into the locker room. He spies Raf standing and talking to Spike and Sam and smiles; his mind, however, still missing the comforting _'Eddie' _that Wordy used to greet him with.

He joins in the friendly banter about Spike's freshest batch of wine before its time to hit the gym and get their day started. Since he had promised Sophie no very early morning workouts, his time in the gym wasn't as long as he had wanted or expected so sometimes he feels himself heading into the field restless – like today.

"Talk to me," Greg lightly pushes as he turns off his head set; today being a quieter day, affording them time to patrol and just catch up on personal things.

"I'm listening."

"Heard that before."

"Boss I'm fine," Ed insists. "Nothin' to talk about."

"Oh Eddie, there's always something to talk about," Greg tosses back with a friendly smile. "I know something's bugging you."

"Nope, am fine."

"Stubborn too," Greg smirks. "Stuff at home okay?"

"Yeah…yeah its fine. Miss the early morning workouts but…but it was something I had to agree to right?"

"She hasn't eased up on that at all?"

"You know…just a bit restless today. It's all good."

"Okay. I talked to Wordy last night," Greg continues, watching Ed's knuckles slightly tense around the steering wheel; Ed's silent actions speaking much louder than his silent words. "He's doin' fine."

"Course he is," Ed nods, his fingers tightening a bit further. "He's a star over there."

"He ever talk about it?"

"The job or the case I nearly screwed up for him?"

"Eddie…"

"Boss just come out and say it," Ed insists. "That's what this is about right?"

"Fine…the job or the case you screw up for him," Greg slightly retorts.

"You hear something on that?"

"No and I want to keep it that way," Greg reminds him. "No more lone wolf missions."

"I learned my lesson. Trust me…getting Wordy in hot water with his boss or one of the city's biggest scumbags wasn't my ideal you know? It just wasn't. The job is fine," Ed concludes. "It's fine."

"That's good. And Raf seems to be fitting in," Greg continues, watching Ed's knuckles slightly ease back and frowning further.

"Yeah he's fitting in," Ed agrees, his expression turning emotionless.

"I know you know this but if Wordy wanted to stay, his job was secure."

"I know…okay I know…I just…I know," Ed stammers and then quickly concludes. "It's just not the same."

"Twenty years…I hear ya…knowing he has your back without having to…"

"He's fine…he's not showing any signs of…damn he's fine. He shoulda stayed longer," Ed replies with a light growl. "He coulda stayed longer."

"It was his choice."

"You shoulda made him stay or…or somethin'," Ed frowns.

"Me or you?" Greg treads carefully.

"I…damn boss I broke into his locker…I could barely handle the truth and now…I mean what if my actions…"

"Wordy's gonna be fine and your career and his will be fine. And in case you were wondering but just can't bring yourself to say it…he doesn't blame you."

"I know," Ed replies with a soft whisper. "I blame me. That job…it's too dangerous for him. He has a family. I mean he's going up against guys like Darren Lockhart and…"

"And you worry that the man who is godfather to Izzy won't be there to see her get married?"

"Something like that," Ed confesses softly. "I worry."

"And that's natural. Just like he worries about you."

"Me?" Ed smirks.

"Yeah becuase you're the safest guy out there," Greg retorts with a small smile before Ed's face turns serious again.

"It's just not the same without him."

"No…no its not."

Sensing Ed's agitation was only growing with the seemingly harmless discussion, Greg changes the subject to something else about the team, and Ed's fingers completely relax and the sharpness in his tone starts to subside. But Wordy's absence was something Ed would have to come to terms with on his own and so far his actions on the team weren't impacted – only his emotional well being. But he also knows to keep an eye on his team lead, for the day his emotional angst hinders his duties, they would have to sit down and have _the talk _and he knows that's something neither of them would want – despite the fact that it would probably help Ed more than he might ever admit to.

The day goes by without much incident and once again Ed is heading home with another odd feeling that he's being watched. He enters his home, greeted by his son and thankful that his family was able to help distract his mind from the days events.

However, his agitation is once again surging as he turns on the news and watches another police arrest of a top Lockhart official, Ed cursing under his breath and drawing glances from his wife and son.

"Do you know him dad?"

"Not directly. Our team doesn't deal with him."

"Wordy's team?" Sophie inquires.

"Yeah," Ed states flatly, his mind now racing that this best friend and former partner would once again somehow come under the irate eye of the cities so far deadliest and most elusive gangster.

"Just saw the news," Ed talks to Wordy on the phone about an hour after dinner.

_"Yeah Guy Benny, a recruit brought in from Montreal. His was an easy arrest."_

"Easy?" Ed asks softly.

_"Right and I saw the team one takedown the other day…"_

"Look I'm not wanting to get into an argument. The city is closing in around this guy."

_"Yeah and we got him right where we want him, trust me it's fine."_

"Fine."

_"Never heard you this worried before."_

"Never gone up against a foe like this bastard," Ed curses under his breath."

_"We've faced bad in the past…even before SRU. This is different."_

"Ah maybe I'm getting soft in my old age," Ed smirks as he leans further back in his chair and closes his eyes for a few seconds.

_"That's it for sure…I mean you are pretty old," Wordy slightly chuckles, drawing a small laugh from his best friend. "Trust me Ed…everything's gonna be fine. Neither of us has anything to worry about," Wordy utters fatefully. "Now tell me more about this secret fishing spot."_

Ed launches into his explanation about the spot and where he found it, not knowing that, at that moment both him and his best friend were not only targets of the cities most wanted man; but were being watched, and their mutal enemy, their would be captor, about to strike.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so how are you liking it so far? Am kinda worried about this one as it didn't quite turn out as I had originally planned. But yeah we'll get back to our boys in peril at the start but wanted to sort of keep the same format as Inside Man with a foregleam of the peril that awaits but get a bit more of story leading up to it. So hope you are all liking the start and please do review before you go and let me know what you think of the start of this sequel and thanks so much!


	2. Prelude to Disaster

**Title: On Deadly Ground  
****Chapter 2 – Prelude to Disaster**

**A/N: **First off thanks for all the amazing feedback everyone! But I forgot to add this in chapter 1 but there will also be certain key phrases and flashbacks in this story to The Better Man (where Wordy confessed his secret) so you should know them when you see them but they won't be set apart like my one shots that are specifically eppy based and in itallics and double quotes (hmm sorry if that is confusing lol).

* * *

Unlike Wednesday, Thursday starts with a very strained note as Ed overhears Holleran talking with another superior from Guns and Gangs and Wordy's name is mentioned, forcing Ed's stomach to instantly tighten and his mind race. _Had something happened to his best friend? Was he the cause? Was this going to be a professional repercussion that would now impact their personal relationship for the worst? A wound that would never be healed? He had seen the news last night but didn't know if it was Wordy's team invovled or not. Could that be it? Was Wordy injured?_

"Sir…what's goin' on?" Ed asks as Holleran finishes the call and walks toward the desk that Ed was standing in front of.

"Just a heads up for today Constable…another safe house of Darren Lockhart was hit last night and a member of Guns and Gangs was sent to the hospital in the process. Now before you ask," Holleran quickly adds as he notices Ed's expression instantly change from inquiring to panic-stricken, "it was a member of Wordy's team not Wordy himself. I assume you saw the news last night."

"I did. Is the officer okay?"

"Serious condition. It was a shootout precipitated by some bad Intel."

"Another insider?"

"Looks to be that way and they do have a team working on it right now. I'll give Greg the heads-up but just make sure you guys are on extra alert today."

"Right thanks," Ed replies with a frown as he quickly pulls his phone; Holleran out of earshot and heading for Greg, allowing Ed to pull his phone and quickly call Wordy. "Hey can you talk?"

_"Yeah for a few minutes. Guess you heard the news?"_

"Yeah. Who got hit?"

_"Dave Sommers. Damn Ed, he and Marcy just had a baby," Wordy's voice replies with a heavy sigh. _

"Think it was Spencer? Damn bastard," Ed curses under his breath.

_"Possible. He's very adept at making friends in low places and if he has Lockhart's money at his disposal and there's a guard in there with any kind of weakness, it's possible. But this comes too close after Spencer's hearing so there might not have been enough time to set it up."_

"You um think maybe…" Ed's voice pauses as his brain races to ponder his next few words.

_"Someone on my team?"_

"Yeah."

_"Anything's possible."_

"Wordy you should…"

_"Ed, this isn't some undercover op that I can just pull myself from," Wordy quickly reminds his best friend of the painful truth. "I will be careful."_

"I know…I know…" Ed huffs as he looks at the time and knows they both hafta get going. "Just heads up okay."

_"Hey the whole city is fair game and your name…"_

"What?" Ed quickly interrupts. "My name? Wordy, what was said?"

_"Can't talk now…"_

"Wordy…"

_"I guess it's a bit more fall out from…"_

"Me sticking my nose in. Buddy I'm sorry."

_"Yeah don't worry about it, we'll talk later."_

Ed's face displays a small wince as Wordy's call ends before Ed can offer a final see you later; leaving his mind reeling and fists tightening – a heated countenance going into a tense working day.

"Eddie?" Greg's calm voice, forces his team leader to turn around and look at him with a heavy frown. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. What's up for tod…"

"Did you talk to Holleran?"

"About the news last night? Yeah and just talked to Wordy. He's okay…everything's fine. I get that Holleran just wanted to give us the heads-up."

"He also wanted to make sure that no matter what happens with Wordy's team you'll stay out of it."

"So this is gonna come back to bite me in the ass," Ed groans as he shakes his head and exhales heavily.

"I am not gonna say I told you so."

"But I told you so. Fine," Ed huffs as he looks back at Greg. "So now what?"

"Now…we go brief the team and keep the peace."

"That's it?"

"You were expecting me to ground you?" Greg quips. "I can still give you truck duty if you'd like."

Ed doesn't answer, merely casts a small sideways smirk in Greg's direction before they head into the team one meeting room. But as he slinks down into his chair, Ed's mind now races with thoughts of what Wordy would have to be dealing with right now. At the same time another dangerous thought crosses his mind, was there another insider? This time on Wordy's own team? His mind quickly flashes him a nightmarish vision of Wordy and his partner walking into a sting only to have Wordy's partner turn on him and his best friend dies with help arriving too late. _Damn it! _Ed's mind curses as he forces himself to turn his thoughts back to what Greg was telling them.

But its not long before a _'hot call'_ announcement comes overhead, sending team one hurrying to get their gear and get out into the field. Knowing that another innocent life was at stake, forces Ed's mind to get in the game and function the way a focused SRU Team Leader should; personal feelings shelved for later.

The call didn't end with a Scorpio shot and that meant heading back to the barn a bit sooner than normal; his agitation once again starting to build. So instead of dressing and heading home, Ed dumps his SRU gear in his locker, pulls on a pair of sweatpants and tee and heads for the gym, grabbing a pair of punching gloves and going at the bag with a full head of steam.

About twenty minutes later, Ed steps back, his heart racing and lungs slightly heaving for air; but his mind getting the feeling he was being watched. He turns to see Spike watching him with a small frown before he offers a somewhat hesitant save and smile.

"Spike…you want this…next?" Ed asks with a small gasp.

"Actually I just came to see if you were okay."

"Yeah…I'm okay thanks," Ed lightly huffs as he offers Spike a nod and then fumbles with his gloves.

"Here I got that…" Spike heads toward Ed, helping him with his gloves. "Is Wordy okay?"

"Yeah, why what's up? What'd you hear?" Ed asks instantly on edge.

"Hey no…nothing, I was just asking…I saw the news last night also," Spike quickly qualifies his question.

"News…right. Yeah he's fine. It was someone else on his team," Ed assures Spike with a curt but kind reply. "Yeah…he's fine."

"Good," Spike helps pull off the glove and then steps back, a few minutes of awkward silence starting to grow. "Okay well…"

"I worry about him…just hard with him not here you know?"

"I do," Spike nods. "I know what its like to not have your best friend with you every day," he concludes on a quieter note. Spike, out of all of them understood the most and could say that with heartfelt honesty. When Lou died, it left a hole in Spike that was visible to all; a wound never properly healing.

"Sorry," Ed offers with a soft tone. "I miss Lou too."

"It's like…some days I come in almost expecting to find him here and then…when I think I see him, Raf turns around," Spike smirks making Ed's face finally soften as his small attempt at humor.

"Think he was okay with the whole locker thing?"

"Yeah. He's got a thick skin I think," Spike shrugs. "How is Wordy with…you know everything?"

_Everything _meant his parkinson's and that was just the one thing Ed didn't want to talk or think about; his best friend, so strong and vital slowly being eaten away with a debilitating disease. "He's um…he's managing…he's got it under control...he's fine."

"Good. Wish he was still here. I mean Raf's a great guy too and all but um…"

"Yeah not the same. I know," Ed offers Spike a soft sympathetic smile; his heart rate finally starting to settle at Spike's calm presence and un-anxious demeanour. "Didn't mean to snap earlier."

"Well I guess I shoulda made myself known earlier. Didn't mean to seem creepy or anything."

"Thought never crossed my mind Spike. Actually…I needed to stop."

"Okay I gotta run. Gotta pick up some new wine making supplies," he slightly smirks. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah…goodnight," Ed states as he watches Spike take his leave. He finally tugs off the second boxing glove and then heads back into the now quiet locker room. He looks over at Wordy's still empty locker and feels his stomach tighten as for a split second he was back in the room, the whole team on hand as Wordy offers his verbal resignation. _Just not fair…_Ed's mind laments as he quickly changes and then heads for the parking lot.

Just as he reaches his car, Ed hears what sounds like a gunshot, instantly pulls his gun, ducks down by his car and waits; silence ensuing. He hears the noise again, this time it being more distinct – like an old car backfiring and sure enough, he watches as a somewhat rusted sedan drives by on his left outside the parking lot, backfires again and continues on his way.

"Damn it," Ed curses as he forces his mind to fully awaken from its previous morbid stupor and focus on getting home with his sanity in tact. He gets into his silver Ford Flex and slowly pulls out of the parking lot. But about ten minutes into his evening commute home, Ed suddenly feels his car starting to list to the right side and quickly has to grip the steering wheel a bit harder to keep it from drifting into on coming traffic.

"What the…hell," Ed grumbles as the back left tire starts to make a very distinct 'clunking' sound. He finally finds a spot to pull over and upon getting out his earlier suspicions had been confirmed – he indeed had been shot at, the sound of the car backfiring was done with precision timing to mask the sound of the silenced bullet now nestled comfortably in the thick rubber folds of his tire.

"Ah damn it!" Ed growls as he kicks the tire, his warm breath making distorted shapes in the crisp, cool night air. With his mind stewing about the shot, Ed hurries to the trunk grabs the jack and spare, and heads back to the nearly deflated tire; shoving his warm gloves into his pockets and getting started.

About five minutes later, he hears a single honk and looks up to see a small car pull up beside him.

"Need a hand buddy?"

Ed looks at the man with a small frown, his mind racing with too many other things to pay particular heed to a few distinct features from his would be good Samaritan. "No…I got it thanks," Ed assures the stranger.

"Okay good…just don't be too long out in this cold weather…you'll catch your death," the man snickers before he pulls away, leaving Ed to just watch him for a few minutes, muttering angrily under his breath before he turns back to the tire and quickly completes the task.

Ed finally reaches home, the tire with the bullet still in tact in the trunk, something he'd try to pry out in the morning when his hands had thawed; his mind determined not to tell Wordy. He'd tell Sophie he had run over a nail but that would be it; no worry to alarm his best friend even more than he already seemed.

_Wordy's already taken enough heat for my actions, _Ed inwardly sighs as he enters his home.

"Ed? That you?"

"Yeah…sorry I'm late!" He calls out as he hangs up his winter coat. "Ran over a damn nail."

Ed heads into the kitchen, his family just about to sit down; giving his wife a quick peck before placing a soft kiss on the top of Izzy's head and then taking his seat opposite Clark.

"You ran over a nail? Did you change the spare?"

"I did. Something you need to learn how to do," Ed answers his son as they finally start into dinner. Dinner this evening is somewhat more strained than the night before, Ed's stomach tight and his mind still wondering if the shot was meant as a deliberate warning message or he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But why else? And with him that close – he being near the front left side and the shot in the back left tire, he could easily have been picked off. And the stranger that stopped? Was that also just an odd coincidence or another setup?

"Hey…" Sophie mentions Ed's name a few hours after dinner as he sits in the living room with a few maps at his feet. "You seemed distracted at dinner."

"Tough day. Thinkin' about the weekend and such and um…maybe we'll make it for another weekend."

"Really? But you've been looking forward to that for some time," Sophie reminds him.

"I know but um…just a lot goin' on right now."

"Well there is more to life than work," she retorts with a small smile as she turns and leaves the room. Ed watches her go and then diverts his gaze to the maps at his feet, his mind now two warring factions – one to call Wordy and cancel, basing it on his semi-founded paranoia and the other telling him to just go, it would only be for a few hours and to a well known and well used location and take your mind off work.

But Darren Lockhart wasn't one to just easily cast aside as another everyday criminal; he could easily buy an insider on Wordy's team, if someone had a monetary weakness and was so inclined.

"Damn I hate this…" Ed stews as he grabs his phone, wanting to cancel and tell his best friend they had to reschedule due to something else that had come up in the family. But at the same time he knows he can't allow Lockhart to dictate his life or force him to live a sheltered life because of a "supposed" feeling inside his gut. _But you always have been told to trust your gut, _Ed's mind quietly reminds him.

So with a heavy sigh, Ed puts his phone back down on the coffee table and then picks up one of the maps. And despite the fact that Wordy had mentioned that his name had come up, if it was urgent he knows his best friend would call; it could obviously wait until tomorrow and it would.

"Hey dad…what's that?"

The next hour is spent showing Clark where he and Wordy would be heading on Saturday and that maybe next time, if he so wanted, Clark could join them on an ice fishing escapade. Finally it was time to head to bed and hopefully bring the trying day to a muchly needed ending. However, sleep was somewhat fitful as Ed's mind replays the incident in the parking lot over and over until he finally falls into darkness, waiting much too soon.

XXXXXXXX

Ed walks into SRU headquarters earlier than normal the next day, Friday morning, heading for the forensic lab with the spare tire rolling at his side.

"Phil?"

"Constable…Lane," the young lab tech looks at the older SRU officer with a frown. "Wrong turn…tire repair is down the hall," Phil smirks; his expression however changing to a more serious one when Ed's face doesn't twitch at his lighthearted remark.

"I need a bullet extracted from this and I need to know where it came from," Ed states in all seriousness.

"Bullet?" Phil asks as he helps Ed put the tire onto a nearby cart.

"Can I get the results today?"

"I can try but we have a rush right now from the courts on the Jones case."

"Right…damn okay I know that's top priority but…well as soon as you can okay."

"Whose tire is this Ed?"

"Mine. Just get it to me when you can."

Ed hurries from the room and heads to his side of the building, not wanting to arouse any kind of undue suspicion and enters the quiet locker room, pulling the door open and then looking at his weary reflection in the mirror. He hears a small shuffling sound, looks away, realizes its only Sam and then turns back, uttering a small gasp as he sees Darren Lockhart's reflection sneering back at him in the mirror.

"Ed?" Sam's voice breaks into his thoughts, making Ed turn to his friend and fellow team member with a somewhat frantic expression. "Hey…you okay?"

"Yeah…fine," Ed huffs as he pulls his jacket off and turns back to the mirror; only his perplexed reflection staring back at him in wonder. _Damn I hate this! _His mind curses angrily. He had promised Sophie no extra early morning workouts, but with Izzy in a more normal sleeping pattern, now and his mind full of anxiety once again he had snuck out, intending to hit the gym and clear his system of lingering agitation. The workout for the most part works, allowing him to head back into the locker room to get dressed, his mind a lot clearer than when he first entered the building.

The day thankfully is a lot quieter, with them just doing routine patrols; Ed choosing to pair himself with Raf, to keep Greg from asking him about his tension this past week as he knows he would. He asks Raf about his father and how he's settling in after a few months, neutral talk and steering clear of Wordy's current professional and personal woes. But each time they see another police car, marked or unmarked, Ed's first inkling is to call Winnie and get the goods on what's going on, praying it's not Wordy's division in trouble. But he knows he has to refrain, unless called in for backup – which throughout the course of the day didn't happen.

"So big fishing trip this weekend," Greg mentions they all start to get undressed and head for home at the end of the long week.

"Fishing in this weather?" Spike smirks.

"Ice fishing. Sounds good," Sam smiles as he playfully punches Spike in the arm. "Maybe you and I should go next time."

"Um…Samuel," Spike starts with a mocking serious tone, making both Ed and Greg exchange amused expressions. "I don't even camp. So if you expect me to hover around a hole the size of a quarter in hopes of catching something for dinner the size of a minnow in the freezing cold…" he lets his voice trail off as the locker room erupts with friendly laughter.

"Well have fun you two," Sam calls out as he grabs his bag and heads for the exit door, Spike in tow.

"I just hope you and Wordy enjoy yourselves and are able to take your mind off work for a few days…you both need it," Greg looks at Ed directly with a concerned expression; not realizing that in a few hours his friend and team lead along with his former team member would both be fighting for their very existence – pitted against a man with no regard for human life.

"Yeah…it should be good you know…just gonna rest and…yeah," Ed huffs as he looks at Greg with a heavy frown.

"Eddie…"

"Boss I'm on edge now because of all this. I just…yeah. Its gonna be fine."

"Okay," Greg replies with a warm smile. "See you Monday."

"Night," Ed nods after his boss and friend, watching him leave and then turning back to his locker to finish packing up a few things; the silence starting to close in around him. But just before he can allow it to consume him completely, a friendly voice is heard, making Ed turn and watch his best friend enter with an amused expression.

"Feels like being back home," Wordy enters the locker room with a grin. He pulls the doors open and stares at the empty space and the over at Ed. "Still empty? Really?"

"Didn't feel right to fill it," Ed mentions as he turns back to putting something away in his locker.

"Where'd you stick Raf?"

"By Spike," Ed answers with a small smile. "Nah he's fine with it."

"Like you'd let him be any different right?"

"Got that straight," Ed grins. "Hey I'm allowed to pull rank a few times right?"

"Certainly in the locker room."

"Funny," Ed deadpans as he closes his locker. "Hey I gotta ask about yesterday."

"Your name. Yeah sorry about that. It wasn't urgent or I woulda called."

"Figured as much," Ed nods in agreement. "But still..."

"Just my boss said for everyone out there, including my hot headed friend Ed Lane to keep his eyes open and make sure he looks before he leaps."

"He said that?" Ed asks with a small groan. "Hot headed?"

"Would I make that up?" Wordy lightly teases.

"Yeah you might," Ed smirks. "And the mood today?"

"Kinda tense. We all don't want to sit around looking at each other like we're all suspected of being an insider and at the same time we are. I know its not me but...I do hate this. It wasn't what I signed up for."

"Sorry," Ed looks at Wordy and frowns, not even sure what else to add.

"So...you have any odd troubles this week?"

_Do I tell him about the bullet in the tire? What if it was a stray and you worry him for nothing? He has enough to worry about as it is?_

"Nah, pretty much the same old stuff. Okay so all set?"

"Just gotta pick up that bait tonight."

"You seriously wanna go see that guy tonight?"

"You afraid of the dark?" Wordy teases as they head for the exit and then to Wordy's minivan. "So how'd the week end with the team?"

Ed talks mostly about what he learned about Raf's father's latest bail hearing and the hot call on Thursday, keeping it neutral going into the weekend. He was tempted to ask Wordy if he had experienced anything suspicious but tensions were high enough all around the city; the subject would remain dormant for now.

"How's Dave?" Ed asks, referring to the officer shot a few days earlier.

"He's gonna pull through. Was touch and go for a few times there but um…he's strong, he'll pull through," Wordy replies in truth. "The team tension of course isn't helping."

Ed hears the torment in his best friend's voice and feels his stomach instantly ache with a jabbing sensation. "Wordy…"

"I wasn't saying that to make either of us feel guilty okay…just sayin'."

"Okay…okay so where's this place…" Ed squints around into the darkened neighbourhood, his senses on alert in the unfamiliar surroundings. "Here?"

"Just up ahead. Trust me, it'll be fine," Wordy assures Ed with a small frown of his own. As much as he figures Ed was thinking the same thing, that Darren Lockhart was still a very viable threat to them both, he doesn't want to voice his concern, nor tell him that he had a near miss in the field just yesterday. _Why worry him more than he already was_, his mind falsely reasons.

"This is the place?" Ed asks with a somewhat nervous tone as Wordy stops the minivan outside the small dimly lit storefront; his eyes darting around their unfamiliar surroundings.

"Yeah…you've been here before."

"I have not," Ed lightly argues back as they both get out of the minivan and head for the front door, Wordy leading the way.

"Yeah you have and it was daylight. You are getting old," Wordy teases his best friend with a smirk.

"How long ago?"

"Few years."

"You expect me to remember a few years back?" Ed retorts with a small smirk. "In my defense I have had a few more important things to think about since then."

"Right well…Rudy? Hey you back here?" Wordy calls out as they near the cashier's desk of the small fishing and outdoor goods store. "Rudy?" Wordy calls out once more before he turns and looks at Ed with a frown before both of them hear a heavy grunt coming from the back supply area and head there in haste.

"Hold it right there!" Ed demands as he and Wordy rush into the backroom with their spare guns drawn, emerging upon the older man in the hands of a younger man, with a lead pipe in his hands. But just before either of them can react, the younger man turns and bolts for the back exit door, heading into the alley, where a trap was waiting for the two SRU officers.

"Ed…go," Wordy directs as he bends down to check on the condition of the man they had been coming to see to buy bait from.

Ed pushes through the back door, only to slam right into the body of another man, quickly stepping back with his gun drawn and realizing he was sorely out numbered – 4 to 1. Two of the men instantly pounce, not giving Ed a chance to ask them their business or even fire off a warning shot. His angry growls bring Wordy into the back alley and soon the two of them are embroiled in a struggle for freedom; the two of them on the losing end.

Ed tries to pull his arm free, his fingers having lost the gun a few moments earlier. The two of them continue to wrestle against the four men but the ordeal would be in vain for them. A few blows later, Ed's body starts to falter, his arms pulled behind his back and a gun pushed in his face to stop his useless struggling.

"What the hell…do you want?" Ed grunts as he tries in vain to pull free of the man holding him captive; Wordy in the same dire predicament.

"You," the man snickers as another man emerges from the shadows, Ed's eyes watching and his stomach developing a sickening feeling.

"What's this about?" Wordy demands in anger as he looks at the man coming up to him, the other pushing a gun into his neck to hinder his escape attempts.

"Its about getting what you deserve."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You'll find out…a bit later."

"Quit the damn games already and tell us what's going on?" Ed demands.

"Very well. First I'm going to drug your partner and then you. And when you wake up you'll wish you hadn't."

"What?"

"Ed!"

Ed can only watch helplessly as the fifth man produces a cloth and then holds it up to Wordy's mouth and nose, a drugged item used to render his best friend unconscious.

"Wordy!" Ed shouts as he tries to pull himself free of his captor, watching as his best friend struggles against the drugs and then fall limp to the ground. "No!" Ed groans as the man with the gun stows his gun and then takes an arm, both Lockhart goons holding him firmly in place as the fifth man comes near with the drugs.

"You'll never ge..."

"I already have. No one coming to your rescue. Enjoy your journey in hell Constable Lane...you've only yourselves to blame for all this," the man snickers as he presses the damp cloth over Ed's mouth and nose; Ed's captive frame trying frantically in vain to pull free. However a few moments later the drugs render him as limp as his partner, his body deposited at the feet of the men once holding him firmly; a figure looming over them with a mocking laugh as his figure casts an eerie shadow in the dimly lit alleyway.

"Restrain them and let's go," the angry order is given as Ed and Wordy's wrists are bound, both are gagged and then dragged into the back of a waiting black van; the store owner given one shot to the temple to take him out of the picture for good, the store closed up and the two kidnapped SRU officers now being delivered – literally to hell.

* * *

**A/N:** duh duh duhhhhhhhhhhhhhh well you knew the kidnapping was coming but had to get a bit more of the tense backstory in there for our boys. So hope you liked how the tension mounted for them and now the real perilous angst starts so please do review before you go and thanks so much!

**PS:** Hope you all enjoyed DM's 2nd to last chapter that was posted a few days ago...not sure what will update next but something will be up in a few days lol stay tuned... ;)


	3. Hunted!

**Title: On Deadly Ground  
****Chapter 3 – Hunted!**

* * *

Ed's fuzzy mind recalls trying to come out of his drug-induced stupor, his eyes squinting into the dimly lit interior and trying to get his brain to focus on what he thought was Wordy's unmoving frame right beside him. But his revival attempts were short lived as he was quickly held down by two sets of strong arms, his bound wrists kept at bay as the damp cloth was clamped over his gagged lips and nose; rendering him unconscious once more.

But waking up in a desolate, frozen wasteland, wrists tightly bound and missing his winter clothes wasn't Ed's idea of a better predicament; in fact it was worse. Neither he nor Wordy had their phones, guns, not even their watches – they didn't know how much time had passed or if anyone would had started a search or not.

"Is this guy for real?" Wordy groans as he finally stands upright beside Ed, his gaze following Ed's and squinting into the darkness. "What did you he…" is all Wordy manages before a shot is fired in their direction, alerting the other hunters but missing them on purpose.

"Okay we gotta move now!" Ed tries as another shot is fired from the opposite direction.

"Where?" Wordy looks back at the dark figure standing fixed in place with his rifle raised. But before Wordy can react he feels Ed's fingers crudely grab the side of his sweater and give it yank, the two of them turning and darting toward what appears to be a thick hedge of trees; slightly darker than the darkened landscape around them. But with their wrists tightly bound, their survival efforts could be hampered unless they got free.

"We need to get loose," Ed whispers in anger as he tries to twist his wrists free, the harsh ropes chaffing his skin and cutting into the soft flesh, forcing him to stop and curse into the cool night air once more.

"If these guys have night goggles it'll be a short hunt," Wordy whispers as they both drop to their knees on the other side of the thick brush. The two of them watch as four other darkened figures join the lone gunman at the top of the ridge, their bodies seemingly turned in their direction but none of the making a move.

"What the hell are they waiting for?" Ed asks in a hushed tone.

"Us, to show ourselves is my guess. Lockhart…this is his thing."

"Really," Ed states more than questions. Ed's eyes start to scan the area in front of them and then behind, the wind nipping at his skin and forcing his mind to curse the fact that his wrists were bound in front and he couldn't even rub some warmth into his chest or his fingertips; which would be rendered useless from the cold if they weren't cut loose and soon.

"Okay we are covered for now…on your belly and do a crawl that way," Wordy whispers and directs Ed with a silent movement, his warm breath actually adding some comforting heat to his partners cool skin. "Go."

Not wasting any time in questioning his best friend who was also a combat and tactical expert, Ed drops from his knees to his belly and starts to crawl in the opposite direction of the group of Lockhart hunters, hoping and praying he wouldn't make even a peep and give themselves away; although he was sure that both he and Wordy knew they were currently being watched and just given a bit of a head start.

They reach a small hill and both allow themselves to tumble down, landing in a mild jumble of arms and legs but are quick to untangle and then try to get their bearings.

"Do you have your watch?"

"No," Wordy replies with a slight grimace as both of them start to feel the ground for anything they could use to cut themselves free with. "But if it's been even a few hours am sure someone will call. Yours or mine?"

"Mine," Ed replies in haste. "Sophie threatens to call Greg if I'm late picking up a dozen eggs," he slightly smirks at his own verbal exaggeration, picking up a soft nervous chuckle from Wordy on his left. "But we gotta get free or else this is gonna be a very one sided fight."

"Am sure that was the plan," Wordy answers, his lips letting another frustrated curse trail off as he looks away from Ed, Ed looking at Wordy's profile and frowning in the pale moonlight. "Any suggestions?"

"Maybe if I knew where we were. I came to once in the van but it was short lived and then I was drugged again," Ed recalls bitterly. "So maybe we aren't anywhere near the city limits?"

"Game sanctuary?"

"Military land?" Ed tosses into the suggestion pile. "Could be anywhere. Either way…we're both gonna freeze if we don't get moving."

"Copy that," Wordy offers the familiar expression, bringing a small smile to Ed's lips. The two of them are slightly able to stand up a bit, but still in a crouched position, continue to make their way in the dark away from their evil hunting party. However, their quiet escape attempt is short lived as Ed's foot get snagged in a shallow rodent hole, forcing his leg to painfully twist, his lips to automatically grunt and the silence broken; his body falling to his knees and bound wrists.

Without missing too much of a beat and hearing the angry voices behind them, Wordy's bound wrists grab Ed's arm as best they can, urgently dragging him away from the voices in the distance behind them. "Hurry," Wordy urges, despite the fact he knows his friend was probably cursing the pain; being caught by Lockhart's men would be even worse – it would mean death.

Ed bites back the pain in his ankle and knee, forcing himself past the growing limp and knowing that their haste would mean life or death as the voices behind them were now drawing closer; forcing panicked adrenaline to start coursing through his entire frame. For a brief millisecond he looks up at the inky night sky, wondering just what time it was and if their absence had already been alerted to. He could only pray that it was.

"Ed…we'll hide in there…hurry!" Wordy's hissed words bring him back to reality. A few meters ahead was thick forest, which hopefully meant more places to hide and something to cut themselves free with. They head toward it not realizing that danger was looming.

XXXXXXXX

"Have you heard from them?" Sophie asks Shelly as she looks at the clock with a frown of concern.

"No. Kevin said he was going to stop and get some bait from a guy he knows but it shouldn't have taken them this long. I know there has been tension at work as of late, so maybe they went for a beer?"

"Maybe, but it's almost midnight," Sophie huffs as she looks at the window again to see if Ed's car had pulled up yet.

"Should we wait a bit longer?"

"Well I know Ed hates when I play the paranoid wife card but last time…" her voice trails off as she gives her head a shake.

"Yeah I'm sure he was glad you did."

"After some coaxing," she replies with a small groan.

"Call Greg…I'm sure he won't mind. Or maybe Spike and get him to do a phone trace?"

"Then I'll really look paranoid but I can't shake this feeling. Not after all Ed has been telling me has been going on this past week."

"Well I know if Kevin is in trouble he'd want us to make that call. You called last time. Let me do it this time. Spike will do it for them. I'll get right back to you."

"Okay thanks."

Shelly hangs up and then looks at her youngest daughter still asleep on the couch waiting for her father to come home so he could see the little fishing gadget she made him to take with him on his trip the next morning. She offers a frown, knowing what a hero Kevin was to the girls and how much he meant to all of them; his tardy absence was out of character and something to worry about. As much as she knows him and Ed like to talk about work and other stuff when together and can lose track of time, it wouldn't have gone on this long, especially since they would be spending the whole day together – just the two of them; plenty of time to talk.

So with a deep breath she picks up the phone and dials. "Mike? This is Shelly Wordsworth…I know it's late and I'm sorry if I woke you up, but do you have a minute? I really need some help."

XXXXXXXX

The two of them run further into the darkness, Ed stumbling once more, his lips cursing the darkness and his leg screaming at him to rest of else he'd be forced to and that would spell certain doom. But Ed pushes past the new painful sensations, commanding his body to keep going or else a slow painful death would be his fate and he wasn't going to allow that to happen. However a few moments later, Wordy stumbles also, forcing Ed to pause, help his friend back up and then continue.

"Wordy…I gotta stop…" Ed lightly pants a few minutes later, as they continue deep into the darkened forest, getting slapped and scraped by twigs, branches, frozen pine needles and the ground when they would stumble and collide.

"Hafta…keep going…" Wordy gasps for another breath as they finally start to slow; Ed's leg now really throbbing especially since the fall a few moments earlier. The two of them stop on the other side of a large tree, lungs heaving, hearts racing and bodies begging for some kind of small restful reprieve.

"Are they coming?"

"They were."

The voices behind them had stopped. A trap? A tactic to get them to talk and flush them out? Or just toying with them? Ed closes his eyes as he rests up against the tree, his throat dry and finding it difficult to swallow. The ground around them was dotted with clumps of frozen snow but to even take some in for a liquid refreshment might cool him from the inside out and he needed to conserve whatever bits of body heat his body could muster. He could feel the scrape on his cheek from a branch starting to sting even more from the cold and winces.

The two of them stand behind the tree, pressed together and hoping their hunters would at least pause or hold in place even longer or better yet wait until it was light and they would have a real head start and maybe some way of identifying where they were and then finding a place to seek shelter and then call for help.

Ed peers around his side of the tree squinting into the unfriendly area before him, but pulling his head back in anger; the forest was thick and wasn't providing him anything in the way of a tactical advantage over their pursuers. However, he could be thankful for the same cover it was providing Lockhart's men it was providing them.

"Do we move?" Ed leans in and whispers to Wordy.

"How's your leg?"

"I'll be okay until we are free and outta here," Ed insists as he takes a deep breath and then rests back against the tree for a few moments. But the moment is short lived as they hear some crunching nearing, prepare to leave but are hindered as Ed feels a strong hand clamp down on his forearm and yanks him away from Wordy. With his wrists bound, fighting back was given to the job of his legs as he quickly pulls his own feet out from under him in the hopes of allowing Wordy to tackle their would be captor. The rouse works.

Wordy's fists instantly ball and land on Ed's attackers back, forcing him to the ground but on top of Ed's trapped frame.

"Andy?" Another gruff voice calls out and both Wordy and Ed know they have to act fast. With his wrists pinned on his chest from the weight of the attacker, Ed brings his legs forward and keeps his attacker, Andy, on top of him while Wordy's quick reaction delivers a blow to the head, sending Andy back down onto Ed and then once more, dazing him.

"ANDY!" The other gruff voice shouts as Ed quickly covers their attackers mouth and holds him while Wordy's bound wrists come over his neck and put him into a sleeper hold, only a few angry grunts escaping until there was silence once more.

"Lie still," Wordy instructs Ed as he takes off their attacker's night vision goggles and holds them up to his face, watching the glowing green figure in the distance coming toward them and then pushing their attacker's legs behind the large tree a bit more to keep him and Ed hidden from view.

"Damn bastard where the hell are you!" The other voice angrily demands as Wordy holds his breath. Thankfully the voice doesn't come closer. Wordy dares to peek his head out from behind the tree, breathing a small sigh of relief as the glowing figure heads in the opposite direction.

"You okay?" Wordy asks Ed in a hushed tone.

"Yeah. Despite the fact he's making me warm, get him off me," Ed grunts as his bound wrists hinder his escape. When Ed is finally free, both of them start to feel their attacker for anything they could use. "Damn no phone."

"But I do feel…a knife! Ed I found a knife," Wordy exclaims as his fingers grasp onto the small single folded blade and then carefully pulls it out, not wanting to drop it as he knows it might be their only means of freedom. "Anything else we can use?"

"Besides this rifle?" Ed whispers in return as his fingers latch onto the weapon and holds it, not realizing that it wouldn't offer them much in the way of protection past the single shot. "No…I'll bet these guys were specifically told to carry nothing extra or that we could use in case they were caught or whatever. What about the jacket?"

"Not much here but anything will help. We'll take turns when we're free," Wordy huffs as he starts to tug the thick woolen item that was more shirt like than jacket like off the body of their unconscious attacker. "No food either. No matches…nothing. Just the rifle and knife and a few plastic zip-ties. Not even a phone."

"They were probably told to check in at a certain time and place," Ed ponders as he slowly stands up and then squints into the darkness before them. "Which way?"

"If we go back we don't know what's waiting?"

"But if we go forward we don't know how much further in this forest we have and where help could be," Ed replies with a heavy frown. "We need shelter."

"I say we keep going. You okay with that leg?"

"Yeah it'll hold. Damn this guy."

"Which one?"

"Lockhart…" Ed grunts as finishes up with the few plastic zip ties and then stands back up beside Wordy.

"You knew he wouldn't give up right?"

"I know," Ed nods as he takes in a deep breath, his lungs instantly regretting it and his lips offering a small cough as cold starts to slowly seep down into his chest. "I do hate the cold."

"That's because you're getting old," Wordy smirks as he looks at Ed's darkened silhouette. "We hafta keep moving."

"You're shivering bad," he notes the chatter in Wordy's tone. "Are you sure you can…"

"And you're not?" Wordy retorts before Ed can add something about his current physical condition to that.

"I wasn't meaning to get you defensive."

"I took my meds today okay?"

"Okay…okay," Ed groans as he looks at Wordy with a frown. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Let's go."

"Right."

The two of them leave the Lockhart attacker, bound and unconscious on the ground and head away from the forest opening, going deeper into the darkened forest, where about twenty minutes in, visual sight more than a few feet head was next to impossible.

"Ed…" Wordy stops to catch his breath a bit more; his hands warm from the jacket he was carrying. "We seriously can't see out here and another trip on that leg and you're done for."

"We can't stop."

"They have no flashlights and these goggles aren't that good. Besides you sound cold."

"I hafta keep talking…keeps my teeth from chat…fine I'm cold. But we can't stop."

"We find a place to huddle together for a bit, let me try to cut us loose and then get some heat into us."

"Heat and rest. Okay can you see any place we can do that through those things?" Ed asks as he takes the jacket, thankful for some warmth coming back to his fingertips.

"Hold on."

Wordy holds up the night goggles once more, the thick forest before them not offering much in the way of shelter of any kind. "Not much…seriously Ed not much at all."

"Okay where is that knife? Let's get loose and then we'll make a new plan," Ed instructs, the frustration in his tone coming to the fore.

"I can…"

"Wordy give me the knife," Ed lightly demands.

"Why? I found it."

"I'm…"

"Team leader? Nice try. Now hold…"

"Wordy give me the damn knife. You have the goggles and…just stop arguing already," Ed utters with a huff as Wordy takes the jacket.

"Fine. Maybe I'll just leave you like that when it's my turn," Wordy snickers as he carefully pushes the open blade into Ed's waiting fingers. "And for the record I did find it first."

"Just hold sti…" Ed starts and then stops. "Wordy I'm so…"

"Stop apologizing, my hands are shivering and I'm blaming the cold. But I can feel yours shaking also and I doubt you have the same excuse as me."

"Damn it," Ed gently curses as he continues the arduous task of trying to cut loose his best friend. "Well…by now we should be missed."

"Yeah let's just hope either Shelly or Sophie called your team and not mine," Wordy grimaces. "If there is an insider then who knows what lies they'd tell them."

XXXXXXXX

_"Spike…buddy do you know what time it is?"_

"Yeah Sam…sorry…I um…" Spike's voice trails off in a whisper.

_"Everything okay?"_

"I got a call from Shelly Wordsworth and she said Wordy and Ed were out and haven't made it back yet and that its been a few hours. I traced their cells and found them at the same place."

_"Maybe they're just…"_

"The auto wrecking yard."

_"Huh?"_

"I'm going to go and check it out…you know just to see if everything's okay. I just didn't want to call the boss yet in case there was nothing to worry about. But if there was something to worry about…"

_"You want backup. Okay I can be ready when you get here."_

XXXXXXXX

Wordy feels the ropes around his wrists starting to loosen; his brain reminding him not to tell Ed that he did feel the tip of the blade pierce his skin a few times, not knowing whether to completely blame the cold or his damned affliction. For now he was gonna blame the cold. Even in the dark he can hear Ed's grunts of frustration growing shallower and knows that the cold was starting to take over and adrenaline starting to lessen.

"Okay almost there," Wordy coaches as he feels his wrists finally having some room to move, biting back a painful wince as he tries to twist them free and the cold harsh ropes chafe the already roughed up skin. He feels Ed pause and then both stop to listen to the stillness around them.

"Wordy…get the…"

"I'm almost free just hurry."

Without saying another word, Ed pushes his full weight into the small blade, furiously sawing at the frozen ropes until Wordy's wrists finally break free. Wordy grabs the goggles and then turns behind, sure enough seeing two green glowing figures in the distance. "Damn it, here they come," he hisses as he snatches the knife from Ed's cold fingers.

"Leave it, let's go."

"Ed, I was kidding when I said…"

"Wordy…"

"YOU BOYS OUT HERE?" They hear a gruff voice calling in the darkness before silence ensues once more.

"We go now. Crouch low and try to stay behind the trees."

"Ed I need to cut you loose."

"Later. Go now!" Ed instructs as they pick up cursing behind them in the distance, figuring that the Lockhart hunters must have found their fallen man. The two of them crouch low and then start to head further away from their hunters. A few more meters are covered, Ed and Wordy thinking they are making ground when a shot pierces the air and a painful yelp is heard.

"We got one!" The angry voice behind them shouts.

Ed's body jerks in response to the bullet ripping open a piece of flesh on the top of his shoulder, embedding itself in the soft folds of sweater and skin, forcing him to stumble and fall toward the unforgiving ground. He curses painfully as his wrists find no buffering with the frozen surface, his knees and injured leg taking a further beating.

"Ed!" Wordy half shouts as he watches Ed stumble, putting his bound wrists out in front to help break his fall; Wordy at his side in seconds trying to assess the damage in the dark and keep them moving. "Where?"

"Shoulder…it's…okay. Let's go," Ed grunts as he forces himself back up, instantly blinking his watery eyes and trying not to think about the men closing in behind them. "We need…to hide."

Wordy lets go of Ed's arm and fiddles with the goggles once more, quickly adjusting them and then taking Ed by the arm and leading him toward what looks like a gathering of boulders and knowing they'll find some shelter from the other night goggles behind them. "Stay down," Wordy whispers as they crouch low, Ed trying to control his breathing and his mind cursing the fact that his bound wrists made it impossible for him to apply pressure to the leaking wound.

Wordy watches the two men stop in the distance; the green figures just standing in place and Wordy holding his breath until he watches them start to head to the left; pulling his head back behind the rock just as the men look in his direction but at the last second not seeing anything moving in their line of sight. Ed and Wordy pick up the angry cursing in the air and then silence again.

Knowing that Ed was shot in the shoulder, Wordy's fingers pull out the knife once more, his fingers then fiddling in the darkness around his best friends bound limbs, opening the knife and getting started in haste. Ed feels Wordy's hands slightly shaking and feels his teeth grit when the small blade cuts his skin once more; but blaming the cold or even Parkinson's was moot right now, they were in trouble and he needed to be free.

"Almost," Ed whispers as he finally feels the ropes starting to loosen. "Just a bit more."

"Shoulder?"

"Fine. Just get…" Ed starts and then stops as they hear a branch breaking closer than expected. With his hands still holding Ed's bound wrists, Wordy pauses with the knife in mid-cut; the two of them holding their breath once more. The rifle they had taken was still around Ed's chest, hanging at his side but to attempt to get it over his shoulders and head without giving themselves away wasn't in the agenda – the gun would have to wait. And without knowing exactly how much ammunition it held, shooting blindly in the dark wasn't a viable survival option.

"Ron I thought you said you saw them."

"I did Dave. And I swear I hit one," the other Lockhart would be hunter mentions. But just before they can take another step toward the stone alcove, Ed and Wordy were hiding behind the walkie-talkie cracks to life and one of them is quick to answer. "Yeah we got it. Fine…we're on our way back. Let's go."

Both of them hear heavy footsteps heading away from them; Wordy waiting a few more minutes before he dares to peek out from behind the rocks and see what was going on. Sure enough he watches the two figures fading in the distance before the takes off the goggles and then leans back against the stones, closing his eyes for a few minutes and then quickly opening them again and getting to work on setting Ed completely free.

"They're leaving – for now. Hold still a few more seconds."

"Got it," Ed finally huffs as his wrists break free of the harsh ropes, his cold hands quickly rubbing some life into his limbs after the tight bonds had been cut off. But as soon as his shoulder starts to twinge, his left hand instantly clutches the top of his left shoulder, biting back a curse and wince at the same time.

"Bullet still in?"

"Yeah," Ed grimaces as he looks at Wordy with a heavy frown. "And no you are not taking it out in the dark with a pocket knife."

"Wasn't gonna attempt it. But at least use this jacket to keep warm. I'll take it next."

As much as he didn't want to, his shoulder literally was screaming for some leniency, prompting Ed to eagerly take the jacket and put it on his damp sweaty back; his mind instantly grateful. "Let's just…find someplace to seek shelter and try to get a bit warmed up," he concludes by shoving the rifle to his back and pushing his freezing hands into his armpits to get them a bit warm. "Lead the way."

Giving his head a shake and knowing better than to argue with Ed right now, Wordy nods as both of them head a bit further into the forest for about ten more minutes before stopping. "Wordy look," Ed points at what appears to be a clearing with the outline of a small shack not far past the darkened tree line. "Just go carefully."

With his body rapidly losing heat, his fingers shoved into his jeans pocket to get some warmth back into them before they come back out and clutch the rifle, his eyes constantly darting around them; Wordy still using the goggles and both of them on alert.

"Think they'll know we're missing yet?" Wordy asks in a soft tone, his hands trying to rub under his sweater to get some heat to his slightly throbbing chest and then snaking up to his armpits to get some warmth back into his shaking fingers.

"If not…we've done something wrong," Ed smirks as they near the edge of the thick forest and both stop, Wordy quickly surveying the landscape for any signs of moving baddies. "Anything?"

"Nope," Wordy twists his head and squints ahead to the outline of what appears to be a hunting hide. "Looks like a hunting hide."

"It's shelter. Is it safe?"

"Not sure. Could be," Wordy replies fatefully as Ed readies the rifle just in case.

"Let's go."

"But I can't tell from here if it's safe or not."

"I'm freezing your freezing…we just need…can you see movement of any kind?"

"No."

"They went in the opposite direction. I say we try to chance it," Ed insists, his shoulder throbbing starting to increase. "Just go slowly."

"Okay. Ready?"

"Yeah," Ed nods as they both take a step forward, his mind praying that his wife or Shelly had called their team and they were on the hunt as well and not realizing the stakes on their lives would soon be upped a very high notch.

XXXXXXXX

"It's not like them right?" Spike asks as he and Sam near the auto wrecking yard, it being well after midnight already.

"To be gone this long? No way. They both have family's and stuff," Sam answers in truth. "Something's up. Hey Spike…up there," Sam gestures to the front entrance to the wrecking yard. "Here?"

"In the yard I guess."

"Is there a dog in there?" Sam asks as he looks at the No Trespassing and Beware of Guard Dog signs.

"I uh…oh," Spike looks at the signs and then frowns as he looks over at Sam. "Did you bring a milk bone?"

"Funny," Sam deadpans as Spike stops the SRU SUV just outside the front gate. "Try calling them again."

Spike presses the speaker button and first dials Ed's cell and then Wordy's, both of them listening to empty rings and then voice mail in return.

"Damn, still nothing," Sam growls as he looks at Spike and both of them slowly get out of the darkened SUV and head for the main gate. Sam whistles loudly to see if a dog comes running and sure enough they hear a few whimpers in the distance but nothing coming toward them.

"A guard dog not on guard?" Spike looks at Sam in wonder. "Security signs and no one coming to greet us?"

"Something's really off here," Sam peeks through the gate and spies Wordy's mini-van. "I see the van but I don't see anyone in it. I don't see a dog or a light on in the office."

"Well they hafta be here," Spike states as he dials Ed's number and watches a blue glow starting to flash up in the front seat of the van. "Ed's phone is still there and active."

"ED! WORDY!" Sam calls out loudly before he looks back at Spike in concern. "Okay we gotta get in that yard and if they aren't there we gotta find out where they were…well before this. Who goes over first?"

"Shall we rock, scissors, paper for it?" Spike mildly jokes to whish Sam just shakes his head.

"Okay I'm going in first; something's definitely wrong. Coming?"

"Lead the way."

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so what danger do you think is waiting for Ed and Wordy? And what will Sam and Spike find out? Lots ahead so I hope you all like this update and please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	4. Survival of the Fittest

**Title: On Deadly Ground  
****Chapter 4 – Survival of the Fittest**

* * *

Spike heads to the side of the gate and looks at the alarm light, calling out to Sam just as he jumps onto the fence to go over.

"Alarm's been tampered with," Spike's words stop Sam mid-stride and force him to jump back down and rejoin his team mate crouching low beside the small box. "That light should be on full. See how it falters?"

"Can you cut it? We gotta get in there?"

"Hold on," Spike states as he steps up and then lands a heavy boot on the top of the small device, forcing it to instantly crumple and the light to die.

"Subtle," Sam smirks. "Think the police will come?" He winks as he takes the heavy bolt cutters and heads back toward the main gate entrance and starts to cut the lock so that they could now enter without having to traverse the top of the barbed gate and possibly get cut in the process. Sam lets the lock drop to the ground and nods to Spike who readies his gun and both slowly enter the stillness before them.

"Its too quiet," Spike whispers as Sam once again calls out for the dog and getting no response. They hurry toward the darkened mini-van, Spike pulling out his flashlight and peering inside while Sam stands guard. "Keys, phones, wallets, watches…jackets…Sam…" Spike's voice trails off as he looks at his friend in dread, his breath making distorted shapes in the cool night air. "Why are their jackets here?"

"No way they'd leave them behind. I'm guessing they were taken," he groans as he looks into the van just as Ed's phone buzzes to life. "A text from…the forensic lab?"

"What?"

"We need to get into this van," Sam states in haste.

"On it," Spike utters as he hurries back to the waiting SRU SUV outside, having picked it up from the barn on the way to get Sam. As Spike retrieves the device that will get them into Wordy's van, Sam starts to slowly circle the van, looking for anything that might have been left behind as a clue to the whereabouts of their now missing friends. Just before he's about to head around to the other side, he spies something shiny sitting just under the front right wheel well and quickly bends to pick it up.

"What's that?" Spike asks as he comes up behind Sam, wanting to know what he's found. "Looks like…a token?"

"Like an arcade token?"

"No look at this side…looks like," Spike pauses with a frown.

"What?"

"A security token of sorts. But its broken."

"Okay we'll worry about this later, just get into the van and let's see what else we can find."

Spike pulls the front lock bolt on Wordy's mini-van, figuring he'd help pay for it if necessary as it was now very evident their friends were in trouble. He quickly reaches for Ed's phone and then opens the message. "Bullet in tire?"

"What the hell?" Sam gently curses as he reads the rest text. "Only speculation from the caliber of gun but he's got a list here and…oh no."

"What?"

"Andrew Akins is a known associate of Darren Lockhart."

"Do you think that…"

"Spike, I don't know what to think but I know that this is now a hot call," he utters in haste as he quickly dials Greg. He looks at Spike's expression change and calls him on it. "What?"

"Darren Lockhart…Sam I hope they're still alive."

XXXXXXXX

Ed sticks close to Wordy's side, his fingers quickly brushing away some frozen droplets around his eyes and his teeth biting back the painful throbbing from his wounded shoulder. The jacket was offering a bit of extra warmth on his back but he knows as soon as they reach the hunting shelter he'd give it to Wordy to use and warm up and any reserve of body heat that he had been gathering would instantly deplete.

"Can't see anything out of the ordinary but its dark and…" Wordy's voice pauses, making them both stop and listen.

"Behind us," Ed replies with a whisper as he looks to the right and frowns in the darkness. "I think. Let's go…lets just warm up a bit and then carry on."

"Copy," Wordy whispers as he takes another careful step toward the darkened hut. As soon as they had cleared the thick dark forest, each step would have to be taken carefully in case something indeed was waiting to surprise them. They near the darkened hut, Wordy gesturing to Ed to head to the right while he'd take the left.

With the rifle still fixed firmly in his cold hands, Ed slowly heads toward the right of the darkened shack, not really caring that it could be falling down on the other side or even housing unwelcomed rodents or other four legged animals. Those they could easily scare off, it was the two legged that fought back with unyielding force.

Wordy nears the left side of the hunting shelter, taking another step and instantly feeling something was wrong. But it was too late as the lightly frozen ground beneath his feet starts to crack from the weight put upon it, not giving him time to react fast enough and pulling him into dirty water up to his just above his bellybutton.

"Wordy!" Ed shouts in horror as he drops the rifle and hurries to his friend's side. "No…oh god no…" Ed states in horror as he rushes to Wordy's aid.

"Ed…careful," Wordy huffs as he tries to claw the now jagged edge of the hole he fell into.

Ed shrugs the jacket off his back, wanting to at least keep it dry for when Wordy would get out; which had to be fast. He drops to his knees, not caring about the pain in his leg or shoulder and grabs Wordy's arms. "Okay hold on…ahhhhh" he utters an angry gasp as the pain starts to pulse through his frame.

"Hurry Ed…its damn…cold," Wordy slightly shivers as he kicks his legs, Ed leaning back and pulling Wordy's half soaked frame onto him. Biting back a searing shot of pain in his upper right shoulder, Ed rolls onto his side, still grasping Wordy's arms and tries to pull him back out.

"Ed I'm slipping," Wordy gasps as the cold water starts to bite at the skin beneath his jeans and sweater.

"Damn it!" Ed curses as he tries to tighten his grip a bit more, his shoulder already feeling the pain and wanting to give in. But knowing that Wordy's health and life depend on him getting out of the frigid waters, he utters a painful gasp and gives Wordy's cold water laden frame a good yank toward him, pulling him up to his knees; Wordy's chest heaving for some warmer air.

"Ed…"

"Almost…there," Ed pants as he tries to move back further and drag Wordy with him. A few more painful seconds drag by as Wordy's shaking frame starts to slide back toward the hole, his fingers clawing onto Ed's now damp sweater as he tries to pull him out.

"Okay…just a bit more…" Ed strains as he digs the heels of his boots into the frozen ground around him and pulls once more. The ground however proves that its every man for himself and coupled with the freezing air, instantly freezes the water as it laps onto the frozen surface, impeding Ed's rescue attempts.

"I can't…get leverage," Wordy grunts.

"Climb up me…if you can," Ed lightly wheezes as his fingers grab onto the frozen ground and he finally stops sliding. Wordy's hands grip Ed's belt buckle and sides and pulls himself up out of the water until he was able to get his right leg onto the bank and then with Ed's help roll onto his back.

Both of them lay slumped on the cold ground, breathing hard and praying for some sort of break to be given to their beleaguered frames. But time wasn't on their side and help wasn't coming anytime soon; they had to find shelter and fast. They were on their own.

"Okay we gotta…keep moving," Ed groans as he sits back up, pulls himself back away from the hole, slowly stands back up hurries to help Wordy get away from the icy trap.

"Shelters…out," Wordy tries to catch his breath as he clings onto Ed's shaking hands as Ed pulls him away from the gaping wound in the unforgiving landscape. "Cold."

"Yeah…hold on buddy just hold on…" Ed mumbles as he heads back to the rifle and jacket, grabs the jacket and turns back to watch Wordy trying to get up and then stumble back down to his knees. Once again pushing past the searing in his shoulder, Ed reaches his friends side, drops to his knees and puts the woolen jacket on top of Wordy's shivering frame and rubs his back and chest, Wordy's icy hands shoved into his armpits for some relief.

"We need…to find sh-elter…" Ed's voice cracks as he tries to huddle closer with Wordy, taking the night goggles from around his neck and trying to find another direction for them to head in.

"Cold…" Wordy whispers in an anguished tone once more.

"Okay I got you…come on," Ed grunts as he stands up and tries to take Wordy with him. Wordy hears the small gasp of pain escaping Ed's lips and knows Ed's also contending with a raw injury.

"You-rr arm," Wordy's voice offers a broken chatter.

"Will hold," Ed insists as he starts for the gun, Wordy supported on his left. His right hand reaches for the rifle, picks up as both of them head back toward the edge of the thick forest. "I say we go…right and hope we find some place to hide and warm up," Ed rattles off in haste, reasoning that talking faster would keep his mouth from feeling the cold.

"Co-py," Wordy manages with a cold chatter as the two of them try to huddle together as they head away from the false shelter, the wind not giving them a break and starting to pick away at their damp shivering frames. Ed feels Wordy's frame starting to shiver harder next to him and knows they won't be making it much further in their current state.

"Ed…"

"Am not le-leaving you," Ed answers in haste, making Wordy slightly chuckle; the sound however, coming out more like a groan. "No…discussion. We need sh-shelter."

"We need…dr-yy clothes," Wordy adds as they near the forest once more and head in a new direction. "Think the t-teams…will f-find us?"

"You know they will."

They walk a bit longer before Ed's leg starts to feel the pressure from Wordy's weight and both of them slightly stumble, falling to the cold ground. But with the wind nipping at them, laughing at the power it possesses in sucking any bits of energy they might still have left, they both know they have to keep moving – time was running out.

"Wordy…"

"I k-know…" Wordy huffs as he offers his cold shaking hand to Ed.

"W-wrap the jacket around…your h-hands," Ed offers with a heavy sigh as he helps his best friend to get some warmth back into his hands before they start out once more; his own body starting to feel the icy winter chill more and more.

"Ed…my legs…c-can't feel them…" Wordy whispers as he finally stumbles and remains on the cold ground. Ed frantically looks around, cursing the unforgiving earth surrounding them and then turns back to Wordy. Without saying anything more, he lifts up his best friend as much as he can and literally drags him toward the base of a large tree, pushing Wordy into the medium sized alcove and then pressing his body up against his; praying that they'd be able to get some warmth and feeling back into Wordy's legs long enough for him to move once more and put some good distance between them and their meciless hunters.

"Don't g-get any ideas," Ed smirks as he starts to rub Wordy's damp jeans.

"N-not my type," Wordy tries to snicker, his face offering a heavy wince in the darkness. But just before either one of them can say another word, they hear what sounds to be a car horn in the distance and both instantly freeze; panic coursing through them once more.

"We…hafta move…" Ed manages. "Wordy…"

"Ed…I can't…ss-seriously I can't move."

_Come on team…you hafta find us, _Ed's mind offers a fervent prayer before he formulates his next move – find some real shelter and fast.

XXXXXXXX

"Okay so Jules put both families in a safe place," Greg informs Sam and Spike as he walks up to the in the auto wrecking yard. "Any sign of the owner? I called his home but there was no answer."

"Haven't checked yet," Sam answers in truth as he looks at Spike. "Anything on the Lockhart accomplice."

"Place of residence is a hotel that um…rents rooms by the hour," Spike replies with a frown.

"Shelly said Wordy thought that there might be another insider in his team but that's all he said," Greg mentions. "If we have to, we'll call in team two but let's play this on the down low right now. Spike get on the traffic cameras and see what activity you can find around here. Given the time of day and area, consider any traffic suspicious. Sam, do a quick sweep for the owner of this place and then you and Spike head to the hotel to see what you can find. Raf and I will head to the bait shop and see what the store owner there can tell us," Greg concludes. "And guys…lets be on extra alert. If Lockhart did kidnap them, he's playing a deadly game but he's playing for keeps and time is of the essence."

Time isn't wasted as all three of them quickly disperse; a few uniformed RCMP officers now stationed outside to keep the area safe. With his gun ready Sam heads a bit further into the darkened auto wrecking lot, his eyes darting around the area at every whispered sound as he heads toward the yard office; Spike already in the truck running his search. Sam nears the dark office and frowns, his senses already picking up something wasn't right.

"Police!" Sam calls out loudly as he nears the office; still hearing a few dog whimpers in the distance. "Police!" Sam calls out again as he pulls the office door open and squints inside, his right hand feeling the wall for the light, which he finally finds and flips on, uttering a heavy sigh as he stares at a body slumped forward on the desk, a single gunshot to the forehead and a small smattering of blood on the white papers below.

Just to be sure, Sam checks the pulse and then curses softly. "Found the owner," Sam tells the team over the headset. "He's dead. And the security camera in here has been turned off," Sam states heavily.

_"Copy Sam," Greg's voice is heard. "Rejoin Spike and then head for the hotel and let us know what you find. We're heading for the bait shop and Jules is staying with the families for now."_

Sam makes a slight detour toward the area he hears the dog whimpers and stops short outside the large cage, peering through the thick wire at the dog lying nearly limp on the ground a few feet away. "Damn it," Sam curses as he jiggles the lock only to find it solid and unmoving.

_"Sam?" Spike asks in haste as he hears the shot and jumps out of the truck ready for action._

"It's okay but I think they poisoned the dog," Sam growls as he pulls his phone and calls for some animal help. "I'm on my way back. Did you get anything?"

_"Yeah a dark van a few blocks from here…time stamped a few hours ago," Spike frowns. "Sam a few hours…."_

"They're gonna be okay," Sam states firmly as he reaches the truck and gets into the driver's seat, glancing over at Spike with his laptop set up.

"Okay hold on…got a plate…running the plate…" Spike mumbles to himself as he looks up at Sam with a frown. "They're gonna be okay," he repeats what Sam had said earlier. "Am glad Shelly called when she did."

"Yeah me too," Sam replies as the computer beeps to life. "What?"

"Another name. Leon Matthews. Got an address."

"Boss we have another name. Spike was able to get some plates off a van in the area and the name came up with another Lockhart associate. He's still tracking the van but we're heading to the hotel to check out Andrew Atkins. We'll let you know what we find."

_"Copy," Greg's heavy sigh is heard before he once again utters some words they all want to believe. "They'll be okay."_

XXXXXXXX

"Wordy…you with me?"

"Rest…a bit…l-longer," Wordy manages in a low tone as Ed croons his neck out a bit more, listening to the stillness around them.

"I heard a horn ea-rlier…and I think that…Wordy we gotta chance it…we're both…f-freezing," Ed tries as he slowly extends, biting back another painful gasp and then bending down to help his best friend up.

"Ed…"

"We…gotta go…n-now," Ed insists with a small yelp as his shoulder extends oddly. Not putting up much of a fuss, Wordy feels Ed's left arm around his waist and commands himself to bite back the pain as he pushes his legs up and forces himself as upright as he can. Ed slings the rifle over Wordy's neck and shoulder, takes the night goggles and presses on toward the location he thinks he heard the shot.

They walk about twenty minutes more before both of them literally collapse on the cold ground in a heap of arms and legs, breathing hard and trying to calm their rapidly beating hearts and maintain whatever body head they could.

"S-serriously Ed…" Wordy chatters and then pauses. "What is…"

"Wood smoke…Wordy…it's w-wood smoke," Ed tells them as he leaves Wordy on the ground and then slightly jogs a few more meters up a small hill and then stops, his warm breath spreading out thinly into the cool night air before him. He spies the small house with a lone light on in the distance.

He quickly turns back to Wordy and tries to help him back up. "There's a…a house in the d-distance."

"Can't…t-trust," Wordy manages.

"We'll…hafta…ch-ance it," Ed insists as he slowly drags Wordy up the hill, both of them having to steady their footsteps as they head down for fear of falling again. They reach the bottom of the hill and Ed takes a deep breath and offers up a small prayer that the person on the other side of the door was friend and not foe. _Maybe that's why they didn't come this way? _Ed's mind ponders as they near the edge of the small house.

Ed takes off the goggles as they near the back gate; his steps slowing just as his hand lands on the latch. "Give me the gun," Ed manages in one complete sentence, his body creating a bit more adrenaline to get through the next few minutes.

"Ed…"

"We have no…choice," Ed replies as he slowly pulls open the gate and then helps Wordy into the small back yard, carefully dumping him into a nearby chair and then heading for the back wooden stairs; the feeling of warmth coming from the house, instantly drawing him forward.

His hands start to slightly shake a bit more from the cold and nerves as he nears the door and then offers a firm knock, his cold knuckles pulling back in haste and recurling around the readied rifle. Ed hears a barking dog and then a sharp command and steps back a foot with the rifle in the air. He watches the door start to slowly open and then takes a deep breath, looking at the face before him in surprise.

"Whoa there young fella…" the older man puts up his hands but then quickly drops them as he pulls back his dog. "I have no money."

"My f-friend and were um…hunting and he fell in the water…" Ed slightly nods behind him to where Wordy was in the chair slowly pushing himself upright to join his friend. "We just need a few m-minutes to warm up and…preferably without the d-dog."

The old man looks at the anguished expression on Ed's face, hears the torment in his broken tone but holds his ground.

"We're police officers."

"Got some ID?"

"Not uh…not on us. Look I'll um…stay outside…my friend…"

"Ed…no," Wordy begs in torment.

"We don't…want to hurt you…" Ed's tone drops as he slowly lowers the gun and looks at the older man with a pleading face. "Please? We just need some help. Just want to warm up…for a few minutes. Please?"

"Hold on," the older man tells them in truth as he closes the door; Ed watching as he takes the dog toward a nearby leash and tethers him and then heads back for the door to let them in.

"Come in."

Wordy comes up behind Ed, he too being drawn by the warm drafts of air coming from the kitchen; beckoning the shivering officers to come and warm up a little. Ed slings the rifle over his shoulder and then heads inside with Wordy on his left hip.

As soon as they enter, Ed's eyes are darting around anxiously looking for any signs of Lockhart's men or a waiting trap. They were cold, injured and had only an unproven rifle as their last line of defense; they were in effect easy prey.

"Just here is go…" Ed starts as his body tries to ease Wordy down onto a nearby chair, just being in the warm kitchen was making a big difference.

"Nonsense, there's a small bed in this room…he can take off the wet clothes and I can dry them and he can have some privacy."

Ed looks at Wordy's place face and feels his heart instantly giving in; turning back to the old man and nodding in agreement. Ed helps Wordy into the small bedroom and ease down onto the single cot before turning his back and offering his friend some privacy as Wordy tries to take off his wet boots and then jeans with shaking hands; cursing the cold for his current impairment and slumping back in defeat.

"Ed," Wordy finally requests, prompting his best friend to turn back and notice Wordy struggling with the boots and quickly bends to help him pull them off, his hands just as shaky from cold tremors. He finally does and then stands back up, turning to see where the old man had gotten to. "What else?"

"Watch…him," Wordy mentions as he finally starts on his jeans. "I'm gonna…be okay."

"Okay," Ed replies softly as he hands Wordy the rifle and then leaves the room, closing the door behind him; taking the wet jeans and socks with him. "Do you have a dryer?" Ed asks as he offers the wet cold clothes.

"Anything you wanna dry?"

For a brief second Ed ponders the comforting thought about having some dry jeans on himself, but undressing before the old man wasn't in his future plans and he knows that since they can't really trust him, going into another room on his own wasn't an option either. He'd have to suffer a bit longer until Wordy could take over watch.

"I'm fine…but maybe this also," Ed hands the old man the thick woolen shirt and his damp sweater.

"You boys don't look like hunters," the old man comments.

"Lost our gear," Ed answers with a heavy wince.

"What'd you hurt?" The old man asks in concern.

"Sir…"

"Call me Milton."

"Milton, I…we really appreciate the help but if you could just dry those and let me know where a phone is, I promise we won't overstay our welcome."

"No trouble. Wife's at her sisters for the weekend. She's not doing too well. 73 and got pneumonia..." the old man's voice trails off as Ed follows him a bit further into the modestly decorated house; glancing at the picture on a nearby dresser before continuing. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, certainly nothing to give the chase-weary SRU officer pause to think anything out of the ordinary. The old man tosses the damp clothing into the dryer and then turns back to Ed in wonder.

"Want some coffee?" Milton asks in wonder.

"Sure," Ed answers almost weakly, the warm environment now starting to force the bullet wound in his shoulder to throb a bit harder. "Do you have a first aid kit? I cut my hands on the ice trying to pull my friend out," Ed offers another small lie, as they near the kitchen once more, the dog standing up and instantly barking, forcing Ed to take a step back.

"Got one right here," Milton carefully bends down and retrieves the rather modest sized item and hands it to Ed. "Down Cujo."

"Cujo?" Ed arches his brows in reference to the classic horror film about the rabid dog.

"Sounds scary," Milton quips. "But when you get to know him...he's a big baby that one. Blame my wife mostly."

"Okay. Do you have a phone?"

"Over there," Milton nods to a cordless phone sitting on the counter. "But this far out here and with the cold you might not get good reception."

"I'll take my…chances," Ed's voice slightly falters as the heat finally starts to make his head swim with a few dizzy spells, forcing his hand to shoot out and clutch the top of nearby chair.

"Why don't you sit down and just rest a few minutes. Heat's comin' back into you now."

"Right," Ed merely nods as he slowly eases himself into the chair, his entire frame nearly collapsing from physical fatigue. "Just a few…minutes," he lightly groans as he looks at the nearby clock. It was well into the wee hours of the morning, so by now their absence would have been noticed and team one notified.

XXXXXXXX

"Raf call it in," Greg huffs as he and Raf loom over the dead store owner. "Sam what'd you guys find?"

"Man, nothin' but bodies in this guys wake," Raf sighs as he calls for the coroner and a forensic team.

_"The hotel was a dead end," Sam replies with a heavy sigh. "Nothing there that we could use to get an idea of where they took Ed and Wordy much less that he's involved. What was with the tire?"_

"Phil said Ed brought the tire in yesterday morning and asked him to put a rush on a bullet embedded in it. He mention anything to you guys?" Greg asks, getting a collective 'no' in return. "Okay we keep looking. Short of going to ask Lockhart himself, we need to find our guys before they are the next crime scene."

_"Copy," Sam replies as he looks over at spike. "Spike and I are heading to Leon Matthews place. We'll report back when we're there."_

"Okay. I'll call Jules and update the families," Greg's voice dies off the headset with an extra heavy sigh before he looks up at Raf with a heavy frown. "They'll be okay."

"From what I know about this Lockhart, he's one bad dude and I mean on the evil side. He's twisted, sadistic and takes pleasure in other people's pain," Raf states gravely. "Especially police officers trying to put him outta business."

"Yeah well I'm not a man to suffer lightly either," Greg retorts before he pulls his phone to call Jules. _Eddie…Wordy…damn I hope you two are alive and okay._

XXXXXXXX

Ed's fingers and certain limbs start to tingle and his cheeks enflame a bit further and he knows it's because his body is finally starting to warm up from the cruel onset of hypothermia; his mind praying that Wordy was warming up just as fast. He looks at the dog who had settled down and then up at the old man with his back to him, a frown starting to grow as he glances over toward the phone.

Before he can make a move to stand up, the older man turns and looks at him with a skeptical glance. "How'd you hurt your shoulder?"

"My…shoulder is fine," Ed lies in haste.

"Among a few things I have done in my lifetime, I was a field medic in Nam," Milton answers, referring to the Vietnam war. "You can't fool me young man. What'd you do?"

"Wrenched it um…pulling my friend out of the water. Can I use the phone?"

Milton nods to Ed, causing him to stand up and the dog instantly bark; the animal now ill-content with the SRU officer up and moving around, having preferred him stationary.

"Thanks," Ed replies softly as he reaches for the small cordless piece with shaky hands, his clumsy actions drawing attention from the older man.

"Need some help?" Milton asks. "Just tell me the number to dial."

But just before he can attempt to dial or even answer in return, Ed hears a noise to his right and turns in haste to see the end of a rifle emerge in his face with Wordy on the other end.

"What the hell?" Ed asks in haste as he looks at his best friend in shock.

"Hold it right there."

"Wordy!"

"Hands where I can see em!" Wordy demands as he points the gun right at Ed.

* * *

**A/N:** *whoa* what just happened? Any guesses? Hehe (evil laugh) yeah the danger and tension isn't going away just yet and I hope you all liked how this chapter progressed. Hope the other involvement of team one is plausible. Would love your thoughts on this update before you go please do review (and remember the new review system-which now lets you leave your name again if you don't have an account yay – but please log in if you can) and thanks so much in advance!


	5. SRU vs THE DEVIL

**Title: On Deadly Ground  
****Chapter 5 – SRU vs THE DEVIL**

* * *

Despite the fact that he was beyond exhausted and chilled to the bone, being in a very strange place with vengeful hunters on their backs, reminded him that no matter what he needed to stay as alert as possible. Ed had helped him get most of the wet clothes off, but his body was still damp and shaking.

He hears Ed in the other room, feeling the agitation in his voice and frowning at the uncertain tone in his voice. Wordy's eyes slowly start to drift around the room, his body starting to tingle – a sure sign it was trying to pull itself out of the hypothermic funk. With only the small bedside light on, his brain had to work overtime to keep his weary eyes in focus as he starts to scan the room for anything that might give them a clue about who had extended some measure of hospitality and where they were.

Wordy's entire frame seizes as he hears the dog bark and then the older man, who had now identified himself as Milton's voice telling the dog to hush around his guest. Picking up the agitation in Ed's voice as he tries to make a funny comment about the dog's iconic name was easy; registering what his eyes were resting on next was a bit more difficult. And then things started to slow…literally. He feels himself leaning upward, pulling his cool back from the warm nest of the bed, the covers opening and allowing a rush of cool air inside the warm envelopment and forcing him to instantly shudder.

_"Need some help?"_ Wordy hears Milton ask and instantly feels his stomach tighten, his brain cursing the fact that his limbs couldn't get out of the warm bed fast enough; his body rebelling against any kind of movement. But his best friend didn't know what he just discovered and he has to act.

_"Just tell me the number to dial," _Wordy's fingers react to Milton's next statement to an unsuspecting Ed as his fingers wrap around the gun and he pushes his scantily clad frame into the hallway, virtually stumbling toward the aromatic kitchen; telling himself if Ed makes that call they might know Milton has company – that is if Lockhart's men don't already. Wordy rounds the corner with the gun drawn and instantly curses his bad timing as he comes face to face with Ed not the old man.

"Hands where I can see em!" Wordy demands as he cocks the rifle, the gun seemingly pointing right at Ed.

But seeing Wordy's gaze moving past him and resting on the old man standing beside the agitated dog, Ed slowly steps aside and then turns to look at Milton, his body now flush between his injured best friend and their would be savior. "Wordy?"

"My friend makes a call and suddenly you have company right?" Wordy states firmly.

"I have no idea what you mean?"

"What?" Ed asks in shock.

"We know who you are and there won't be any calls made from you telling them we're here," Wordy hisses at Milton, making Ed's fists instantly seize as he looks at their kind host in anger.

"Young man I can assure you…"

"Ed, did he make any calls?"

"No. Who is he?"

"Not a friend. Where's our clothes?"

"Wordy, you're freezing," Ed half whispers as he notices the end of the rifle starting to waver.

"I can assure you that I mean the two of you no harm," Milton replies as he tries to quiet the agitated dog on his right. "Please put that gun down. You're upsetting Cujo."

"Sir…you stay where you are. Ed where's our clothing?"

"Dryer. Wordy…"

"Get them," Wordy directs, using a tone that even Ed dare not question.

"Will you kindly explain what's going on?"

"Why? So you can go and tell your friends where we are and in what shape?" Wordy retorts angrily. "I won't tip my hand to the devil."

"I'm not the devil."

"You know him so don't play games."

They had only been in the dryer about twenty minutes and so were still mostly damp as Ed retrieves them; his mind racing with wonder as to what Wordy had found out about their host. For a split second he wondered if perhaps the cold had affected his thinking and he just wasn't reasoning rashly. But he knows Wordy's instincts, much like his, in a situation like this would always be on; he found something that connected the old man to Lockhart – that was the only explanation.

Not seeing keys to the truck or even a cell phone, Ed hurries back to the kitchen entrance, dumping the slightly warmed clothes on the floor and then taking the rifle from Wordy.

"I really wish you'd explain yourself for these seemingly rash actions," Milton mentions to Ed in a calm tone. "Do you just agree with him without question?"

"My partner doesn't like you…that's good enough for me," Ed replies firmly, his heart racing at top speed.

"You boys have me pegged all wrong it seems. But…"

"Don't move," Ed insists as Milton takes a step toward them, Cujo's barking instantly gaining strength.

"Am not gonna hurt either of you," Milton replies with a frown as Wordy yanks the cord from the wall, ripping its head away from the cords and rendering the phone useless.

"Where is your cell phone?"

"I don't have one and that is the truth. But I really wish you'd tell me what's going on here? I opened my home to you and offered…"

"To give us a false sense of security before you send a signal to your friends to come and get us?" Wordy retorts as he glares at Milton in anger. "I'm going home to my family and nothing you or the devil's helpers out there will stop that."

"Very well then…I wish you and your injured partner god speed…you'll both need it," Milton's voice turns serious as locks eyes with Ed and holds his gaze with a haunted stare; Ed instantly feeling his agitation starting to grow. "I know you're both afraid."

"Like hell we are," Ed replies firmly.

"Oh you should be…I know what hunts you."

"Thanks for the hospitality," Ed offers in sarcasm as he glances over at Wordy to ensure he was once again fully dressed and ready to move on. They had no other way of knowing what other means of communication the old man had and neither did they have time to play hide and seek and search for the elusive object either. They only knew that Lockhart's grip was starting to close around them and they needed a way out and fast.

"Where are the damn keys?" Wordy demands.

"I lost them," Milton merely replies, him now tired of holding up the façade and just stalling for time.

Ed quickly glances over at Wordy as he pulls on the jacket and then his boots.

"You boys won't last long in your condition out there."

"Better a fighting chance out there than sitting ducks in here," Ed retorts. "Ready?"

"Ready," Wordy nods as he heads for the back door, night goggles in hand and starts to look around.

"Turn around," Ed motions to the old man, drawing an inquisitive glance from his partner.

"You going to shoot me in the back officer?" Milton quips.

"Turn around and find out," Ed demands as Milton slowly turns around his hands still in the air. He had thought about hitting the old man over the head but knows that it's the devil's MO to leave a trail of bodies in his wake – not that of the SRU; so he merely wraps his arm around his neck and holds onto Milton until the old man's frame goes limp in his arms and then slowly lowers him to the ground as Cujo helplessly barks on. Both Ed and Wordy scour the cupboards, pulling out a few breakfast bars and a first aid kit.

"What was that all about?"

"His wife is on the board that funds this place…" Wordy states as he looks back at Ed with a heavy frown. "But at least I know where we are, The Chapleau Crown Game Reserve."

"Great," Ed groans as his mind references the information that they were indeed being hunted on the world's largest game reserve. "How did we not see any bears yet?" He huffs, knowing the wildlife ratio.

"Well Lockhart does have the money to pay someone to corral them to a certain part of this place if he so wanted; I mean it is huge and am sure his men don't want to get attacked or come under fire for killing animals on crown land that is protected by the government. Why do you think we are being sent in a certain direction?"

"Damn it," Ed grumbles. "What else?"

"I have had run ins with the board his wife sits on…certain members were hand picked by Darren Lockhart, he's their biggest contributor. And I saw a plaque in that small room given to his wife by the devil himself and a picture of them shaking hands," Wordy groans. "We hafta move now. You see keys to that truck outside?"

"No, but I can hotwire it. You sure you don't need a few more minutes?"

"I'm cold and…what about your shoulder? Can I at least see it in the light?"

Ed looks at Wordy with a deep frown, hesitating in his movements.

"What?"

"Back there…for a split second…when you came around the corner with the gun…"

"You thought I had turned on you?"

"Stupid right?"

"I was kinda delusional but you know I never would betray you right?" Wordy inquires.

"I know that," Ed assures him in haste. "Was just surprised."

"Sorry for pointing the gun at you but I didn't expect you to be right there. Okay can I see the shoulder?"

As much as he knows another second wasted in the would be death trap might lead to their ultimate demise, his shoulder was throbbing and the bullet at least needed to come out. But were Wordy's hands steady enough to perform the task? Giving himself a quick mental ass kicking for even doubting his best friend's capabilities, he tells himself it was warm and Wordy's actions would be fine. So with a slow nod, he finally gives in, shrugging off his sweater and slumping down on a nearby chair, Cujo still barking at them.

"Hold on a sec," Wordy sighs as he opens the fridge and pulls out a steak and tosses it at the dog. "Wasn't that getting on your nerves?" He quips as Ed smirks. "Now hold still. Your t-shirt is stuck in the…hold on…"

"Ahhhh!" Ed's lips offer a painful gasp as Wordy's fingers start to tug at the fabric wrapped around the bullet and embedded in his shoulder. "Wordy…" Ed groans.

"Sorry…it's stuck with the fabric and I'm gonna pull it out. It's gonna hurt."

Ed braces himself and then utters another painful moan as Wordy pulls the fabric against the direction of the already chewed up skin, tearing it open a bit more but finally dislodging the terrible object of his friend's pain. "Sorry."

"Thanks," Ed frowns as he feels Wordy's fingers still fiddling with the injured area, his teeth gritting as the raw skin dances with the unforgiving disinfectant before a soothing pad is placed over it and taped down.

"Its crude but at least the bullet's out. Oh and speaking of bullets…"

"Yeah?" Ed looks up at Wordy in wonder.

"This thing only has one in its chamber."

"What?"

"I'm serious," Wordy confirms, making Ed curse.

"Then we gotta make it count. Okay let's find some warmer clothes and get the hell outta here."

Ed quickly redresses as Wordy goes in search of some jackets coming back with that and a pair of warm dry boots for each. "At least the sizes are close," Wordy mentions and Ed can only offer his friend a small smile as he quickly dresses, his mind trying to ignore the biting pain from his shoulder movements. He pulls on the sweater and black toque and then looks at Wordy and nods – it was time to leave now. After they were dressed with warmer clothes and pockets stuffed with some bars and first aid supplies they prepare to move out; both wishing they had another rifle or some other sort of weapon as a defense.

"Why'd you kill the phone?"

"All I heard was static and am guessing he was supposed to send a beep or something and then wait for them to come get us."

They hurry toward the truck, Ed heading for the drivers side while Wordy, once again equipped with the night goggles and keeping an eye out. With only one bullet and no other means of defending themselves they had to make sure it wasn't wasted. But at least they had a sense of where they were; no where near home but at least he both had a basic knowledge of the area enough to know what they were up against – an unforgiving destination that one dare not take for granted.

"Can you hotwire that thing?" Wordy asks quickly, his body begging for another bout of heat as the cold starts to attack his exposed skin once more.

"Yeah…hold on."

Ed uses the small flashlight he had taken to illuminate the panel below the steering column to pry it lose and then pull down the wires he hopes will help to jump start the truck – the plan works and the late model truck hums to life and Wordy hurries around the passenger side and hops in. Ed flips on the headlights and then turns the truck to face the pre-made tracks and then pulls away, hoping it will lead them to the highway and freedom.

But not ten minutes into their journey, fate once again decides to cruelly intervene.

***bang***

XXXXXXXX

"Boss where are you?" Sam asks into his headset as he and Spike near the quiet abode of Leon Matthews, the second missing Lockhart henchman.

_"Raf and I are about sixty seconds away nearing the back alley on fifth. What do you see?"_

"Looks all quiet," Sam frowns as he squints at the darkened residence before him. "We're ready on your go."

_"Copy that," Greg replies as he and Raf head down the darkened alleyway and near the quiet backyard of Leon Matthews."_

_"All dark and quiet back here too," Raf informs the team._

_"Let's go stealth team. We don't want to tip our hand in case he's in there."_

Greg and Raf quietly exit the SRU SUV and head for the rickety back gate, Sam and Spike heading for the front door.

"Any sign of a security system?" Spike wonders.

_"Nothing we can see," Raf replies softly. "What's there to guard with this place?" He tosses out, making the other three smirk and nod._

_"Okay quiet entry if possible."_

"Does that mean I can pick the lock?" Spike offers as he looks at Sam who merely shakes his head. But before Sam and argue in return, Spike pulls out a pick and expertly picks the lock.

"Do I even wanna know where you learned that? Geek with lock picking skills."

"That's why the ladies love me," Spike smirks as he stows the pick and readies his gun once more.

"Yeah so you can break without being invited?" Sam quips before he's back to all business. "Boss, we're inside," Sam whispers as he sends Spike to the back to let Greg and Raf into the sparsely furnished dwelling. "I'm going upstairs."

_"Raf check the basement," Greg directs as he joins up with Spike. "_Anything electronic we can use?"

"On it," Spike replies as Greg finally flips on the hall light.

Greg feels his nervous agitation starting to mount, knowing what kind of reputation Darren Lockhart was known and feared for and what his two friends might now be facing. Compounding his anxiety was his last communication with Jules about how Sophie and Shelly refused to sleep at all, any word on their missing husbands was the only thing that would ease some of their concern, but the right word – an affirmation of death wasn't an option.

"All clear upstairs," Sam informs them as joins Greg in the main living room area.

"Same with the basement," Raf states as he walks up to them. "But I did find this."

"A receipt dated yesterday for ammunition," Greg frowns as he reads the order and then looks up at his team. "And this ammunition is for long range hunting rifles."

"What?" Spike asks as he walks up to them with a small iPad in his hands.

"Anything?"

"He researched hunting rifles."

"This is not good," Raf states the obvious as Sam feels his stomach tighten. "What is it?" Raf asks Sam.

"Rifles..hunting ammo…bad gut feeling."

"Like maybe they took them somewhere and uh…are hunting them? Man that's messed up," Raf mumbles.

"Yeah but not far fetched," Spike interrupts.

"You find something?" Greg inquires in haste.

"Not an exact location but enough to suggest Sam's right. They were kidnapped and taken somewhere…to be hunted," Spike shows them a website.

"What the hell? Now that's messed up," Raf comments. "Hunting men dot com? Thought that was a dating site."

"Funny."

"Spike…we need to find them and I mean now," Greg directs his frustrated team. "Its us and them verses the devil and time is running out on our boys."

XXXXXXXX

"Ed! Look o…" is all Wordy manages as the shot shatters the back left tire of the truck, instantly rendering the means of escape useless and forcing it to swerve and shudder over the snowy path.

"Dam…" Ed grunts as his fingers try to control the skid as they hit an icy patch and sail toward a group of trees. Not wanting a head on collision and knowing that hitting either passenger side wasn't a wise option; Ed tries to get the out of control truck into a controlled swing so that it would end up hitting the back box and not doing any more damage to them than anticipated. For the most part the move works; but it's the right side of the box that slams into the tree, jarring the two inside passengers; jostling them around in the front like two rag dolls.

Despite his pounding head, Wordy looks up through the night goggles and sees bright green specks heading toward them. "Ed…here they come!" He exclaims excitedly; prompting both to vacate the smoking wreck and hurry back into the thick dense forest.

Biting back a fresh tsunami of pain, Ed pushes himself out of the drivers side and hurries after Wordy, both of them cringing at the sound of a distinct 'ping' reverberating off the side of the truck they had just removed themselves from.

"WE GOT THEM NOW!" The call is heard followed by sickening laughter.

"Ed…we hafta…even the…odds…" Wordy pants as they head deeper into the unknown wilderness before them.

"I know…but we can't stop…only one shot…" Ed agrees, nearly out of breath, his heart straining to keep his lungs breathing and his entire frame moving with as much energy it can muster. His leg and arm were both screaming at him to stop but hearing the mocking laughter in the background and knowing that daylight would soon be coming they had to get somewhere fast and hide; the odds were piling up against them and stopping wasn't an option.

"Ed!" Wordy huffs as he veers to the right, Ed following without question. The once darkened sky was starting to lighten, meaning the cold, frigid night was going to ease but that would mean daylight would bring a whole host of other problems – such as leaving them less places to hide and more chances of getting caught.

"How many…did you see?" Ed manages with a painful wheeze as they near another outcropping of trees and then hide behind it, waiting.

"Three…" Wordy whispers as they hear footsteps nearing. "Just…don't move."

Ed feels himself holding his breath as the footsteps near, not waiting for Wordy to tell him how many were approaching but jumping out and just slamming his body into one as they approached. The man, who would be later identified as Leon Matthews, the one his team was searching for, stumbles backward, Ed pouncing again before he has a chance to fire off a shot.

"Over here!" Another shouts.

"Roger…to your right!" The other shouts.

Wordy thinks about the long range rifle in his hands and knows with the darkness still impeding a clean kill shot, wasting the bullet into the cool night air was something he wasn't planning to do. So instead, he follows Ed's lead and jumps into the fray with Ed and Leon, trying to pry away the gun and leaving Ed to take care of their attacker.

Wordy manages to get the gun away and fire in the direction of the other two green figures, forcing them to stop and duck for cover; Ed managing to get Leon out with a choker hold but having to leave him unrestrained as he had even less on him than the last one.

Wordy fires again, finishing off the half filled clip and ensuring they were able to get some ground on their escape. So with the other two still hiding, Wordy and Ed once again try to keep themselves behind the trees as they head further away from the last two hunters left standing – or so that was _their _count. They run hard for about twenty more minutes before physical fatigue forces them to finally stop, both of them dropping to their knees, chests heaving and hearts racing.

"Think…just two left?" Wordy asks with a heavy pant.

"Hope…so," Ed replies with a distinct wheeze, drawing a worried glance from his best friend. "I'm…fine."

"I know you're not," Wordy retorts, making Ed's shoulders slightly slump.

"Fine…I hurt like hell...is that better?"

"It's the truth," Wordy gently teases him in return. "Think the team found anything to search?"

"Lockhart's smart…I doubt he left more than bodies as a trail of breadcrumbs. But if they do get my phone then maybe the ballistics from the tire would…" Ed rambles off without thinking about all he was offering.

"Ballistics? Tire? What are you talking about?"

Ed looks at Wordy's wondering expression in the soft growing light and frowns. "What?"

"I asked if you ran into any problems this past week and you said no."

"I didn't want to worry you okay?"

"What happened Ed?" Wordy asks directly.

"I was coming out of work a few nights back and was shot at. The bullet missed me and landed in the tire. I got a flat on the way home and then took the whole tire into Phil the next morning and that was it…I heard nothing back. That's it. I didn't mention it because I know how tense this week was for you and until I had ruled it targeted figured it could have also just been a stray."

"Sent in your direction?"

"Hey it could happen okay," Ed rushes in his defense. "It doesn't matter now does it?"

"Suppose not," Wordy answers a bit stiffly and Ed grits his teeth. "But I had run in myself this week so I guess the week was tense for both of us."

"What happened to you?"

"Bullet in the tire."

"What?" Ed asks in shock. "Anyone stop to offer you help and then drive off?"

"Smarmy lookin' guy with a reddish beard and close cropped buzz cut?"

"Same guy as me! Damn so it was targeted…" Ed curses in anger. "Okay so where to now?"

"Am sure they'll have stationed someone at the end of that road by now in case we double back, but if that is the only way out of here then we hafta head in that direction."

"Parallel. Okay…let's get moving."

Both were pushing themselves past their own personal breaking point, but dawn was coming and that would mean Lockhart's men would be getting more desperate to end the chase and ending the chase meant them both dead; they had to find help and fast. Ed looks over at Wordy and frowns; both had kept secrets from the other, something they never would have done in the past. Once again Ed can't help but think back to his first stumbling into Wordy's undercover op and nearly ending up a liability with his best friend taking the fall. Did that event strain their friendship beyond repair? Would this growing tension subside or just continue to gain momentum? _Come on Greg…you hafta have something by now._

XXXXXXXX

Greg looks at his team as they talk with Shelly and Sophie and feels his mind silently curse. The rather sordid website had told them nothing, only offered sick places for some rather unorthodox practices that appealed to certain lifestyles; and said establishments were mostly in the US, nothing in Ontario to suggest that Darren Lockhart would be mixed up with. But just to be sure Spike was running the Lockhart accounts they had access to against any of the locations listed on the website just to be sure.

He looks over at Shelly and Sophie and frowns; their husbands and the father's of their children were missing and he wasn't in any position to offer any kind of comfort or hope, more so than he already had; he could only pray a location was found and fast.

"Boss…" Spike suddenly pipes up. "I think I might have something," he exclaims, bringing team one to his side in haste; both wives holding each other's hands and praying it was the location of their husbands.

XXXXXXXX

The sky was still overcast but starting to lighten enough that Wordy was able to stuff the night goggles into the pocket of his jacket for a later time if necessary. The jackets they had taken from the old man's house had worked well to keep precious body heat against their aching chests from escaping and keep the onset of hypothermia at bay. But their legs were cold, both were sporting injuries and Ed's shoulder needed tending to and fast.

"Hold up…" Ed stops Wordy as they near the edge of the forest and look upon a clearing; a sprint that would take them to another forested section, but in the interim leave them out in the open. "Are we still parallel with the road?"

"We are but that doesn't mean much…this place is massive," Wordy reminds him as they both look at the seemingly harmless clearing and the protective forest on the other side of the great divide. "What do you think? Ed?"

"What if you're right and they are corralling us in the direction they want?"

"What other option do we have? We go back and all we run into is the old man who we know is not on our side."

Ed looks at the unfriendly forested entrance before them and feels his stomach tighten. They were trapped. What lay ahead? Only danger behind? And if they went to the left or right could possibly risk heading deeper into the thick forest and running into local wildlife that they would be mostly defenseless against. He looks over at Wordy and shakes his head.

"I hate that they have the upper hand. We need to even this out and draw them out and meet us on our terms."

"A trap. And the bait?" Wordy asks, drawing Ed's gaze back to him. "Right."

"We each have a rifle with one shot but I figure they won't send both of them to check if you're dead. You're better at hand to hand than me…"

"And you have the sniper shot."

"We hafta do this," Ed states, trying to downplay the hint of desperation in his voice.

"Okay what's your plan?" Wordy inquires, his own agitation starting to build. Ed leans in closer to talk to Wordy in a lower tone, not realizing that a dark set of eyes was watching him through a long range sniper scope; a twisted smile slowly forming as another plan was being put into motion.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay so seriously I had planned to end this another way but realized this chapter was already 8 pages and I didn't want to rush anything further or leave mid-action. So think their plan will work? Will they escape? Will time run out? Or will team one find them in time? Hope you all have some nails left lol and please do review before you go (you know it makes us write faster) and thanks so much in advance! You all rock! :D


	6. Checkmate!

**Title: On Deadly Ground  
****Chapter 6 – Checkmate!**

* * *

"The Chapeau Game Reserve? That place is almost three thousand square miles. Where'd we even start to look?" Sam interrupts Spike.

"And do we know for sure?" Raf interjects.

"We have the facts," Greg replies with a small sigh. "Problem is who do we call? If they did take them there and given the size of Chapleau itself it could mean that someone there…possibly on the small police force is on Lockhart's payroll. We tip our hand…"

"And it's game over," Sam huffs. "We can't drive there in time."

"Fly?"

"Police chopper?" Raf suggests.

"Boss, time is running out," Spike insists.

"We don't even know if they're there. Let me make a call," Greg states as he looks over at Shelly and Sophie.

"Who can you call? You just said…"

"Okay I have an idea. I have a friend, hang tight. I don't want to get anyone's hopes up on a whim but I can't ignore this either."

"And this friend?" Sam inquires.

"Hold on."

Greg pulls his phone and quickly calls in a personal favor – praying it was the place and they would get there in time. _Hold on Eddie…Wordy…damn I hope you guys are both okay._

XXXXXXXX

"Okay ready?"

"Yeah."

Ed notices the small amount of hesitation from Wordy and frowns. "What?"

"Nothing. Just we hafta make sure this works the first time."

"It will," Ed assures him with a firm nod. A few minutes later they hear a branch break in the distance behind them and know it's time to act. So with a plan firmly set in motion, Ed and Wordy start out across the open plain, at whatever top speed they could both manage, heading for the next protective covering of the thick wooded area before them.

"Ahhhhh!" Wordy calls out as he fakes his stumble, his call a bit louder than normal and then silence as he falls to the ground, pretending to clutch his leg as he lays on his back on the cold ground. Ed crouches down to look at his friend, but moves his eyes upward to scan the surrounding area.

"Think they heard?"

"I do. We each have one shot left. Let's make it count."

"You take one and I'll take the other and then…"

"Then we make for the road and don't look back...copy that," Ed nods firmly before he slightly stands up and pretends to be looking around for help; Wordy pretending to be writhing on the ground with a broken leg.

"My leg…ahhhhh!" Wordy embellishes a bit more as Ed stands all the way up and then tries to help Wordy up, Wordy's lips uttering another false cry as he begs to be put back down. Ed gestures that he's going to go into the woods to find something he can use as a walking brace.

"Let's hope this works," Ed mutters as he heads for the treed area.

The plan was to draw the two men out after them, both of them stopping to get Wordy, and then one going after Ed. Once one of them was away from Wordy, Ed would take him out, leaving the other for Wordy and putting them ahead of the hunters with no one left to chase them – that was in theory the plan.

Still nervous about leaving Wordy in the clearing all alone and trying to push past the nagging doubt that something might go very wrong, Ed hurries for the forest, his heart begging him to stop or at least slow his pace to give his body a well deserved rest or at least a chance to catch up - neither would be forthcoming right now. He nears the entrance to the thick forest once again and slows, his eyes picking up something in his peripheral vision. Sure enough, he watches two men, this time cleverly disguised in camo and neutrals heading toward them. Wishing he could at least signal Wordy to tell them they were coming, he stops just as he enters the forest and rests up against a tree.

He twists his head just in time to see the men nearing Wordy, his heart rate instantly picking up, and his hands quickly reaching for the rifle. Ed pushes himself up against the thick tree, praying for the pounding in his head to stop long enough for him to focus and take the clean shot – only one bullet – it had to hit its mark the first time around; there was no room for error and no second chances.

"Come on you bastard…stand up and let me take you out," Ed growls as he lines up the closest Lockhart hunter in his sights. His finger eases back on the trigger, the target in his sights…the shot about to be taken.

Wordy hears footsteps crunching on the cold, hard ground as the two hunters approach. He had found a small pocket knife at Milton's, the handle of which was tucked into his palm and ready for action.

"Look what we got here Ralph," one of them sneers down at Wordy, who merely looks up with a snarl.

"Where's your friend?"

"He went for help."

"Left you all alone did he? Well we know he didn't get too far ahead."

"Dan…go find him."

"Ed!" Wordy shouts before the one named Ralph leans in, meaning to attack him. Dan hurries toward the treed area, the exact distraction Ed was hoping for. Ed lines up in his sights the man heading toward him and halts his breath, slowly easing back on the trigger and sending the bullet from its chamber.

***bang***

The perfect sniper shot embeds itself into Dan's forehead, sending his body sailing backward onto the cold hard ground as Ed stands back with the now empty rifle still in his grasp. Knowing he could use the empty gun as at least a battering weapon, Ed slings the rifle over his injured shoulder and prepares to head out and help Wordy. However, just before he can take a step from his hiding place, something stops him. A soft whisper out of place, making him turn around and instantly wish he hadn't.

"Hello Constable Lane," a deep voice greets him behind the long end of a high powered rifle.

"Dan!" Ralph shouts as he watches his hunter partner's body slam into the ground and not get up. Wordy wastes no time in twisting onto his side, grabbing Ralph's leg and giving it a good tug, making the last man standing finally fall to the ground; allowing Wordy to pounce.

He lands a hard blow to his side; his mind hearing sickening laughter from Darren Lockhart and anguished cries from his wife and daughters; both mental sounds driving on his need to get the upper hand, turn the odds in their favor and end this damn chase while they were both still alive.

Dan punches Wordy in the jaw, sending his head snapping back but Wordy manages to knee him in the groin, twist himself around, wrap his arms around Dan's neck and head and hold on; the few moments it takes for Dan to go limp in his arms, has Wordy wondering what was taking Ed so long to get back to his side. Dan's body finally collapses out of his last breath onto Wordy's chest, Wordy pushing him off and laying still a few seconds to catch his breath before pushing himself onto his knees.

But as he does he notices very wrong. Ed wasn't to be seen. _What the hell? _Wordy groans as he quickly drops to his stomach and grabs the rifle with the lone shot remaining. _You have one shot…make it count, _he recalls Ed's stern command about their only means of real defense.

With the neutral jacket over his shoulders for extra cover, slowly shuffling on his stomach toward the thick forest was a painfully arduous task but one that was necessary as he knows Ed would show himself if everything was okay. Was Ed being watched? Or worse was he now prisoner? Would one shot free him or would it add to their current miserable predicament?

He hears a gruff voice a few meters ahead and quickly stops; knowing the voice isn't that of his best friend and cursing the fact that they had left themselves exposed and badly underestimated Darren Lockhart. But as he listens, he hears only one voice. Two against one. Two? That would depend on the condition Ed was in. _Damn it Ed…let me hear your voice._

The voice and actions that followed happened so fast that Ed, in his weakened condition, was unable to react fast enough to gain control; lack of sleep, depleted adrenaline, cold, fatigue, injuries; all ensuring he wasn't on his top fighting game. For a few split seconds he locked eyes with the angry dark gaze before him, his arms unable to come up fast enough to protect himself from being struck in the head with the butt end of the high powered rifle of the hidden sniper who had been watching them all along.

The attacker takes quickly advantage of Ed's dazed condition, to hit him again in the stomach, forcing the empty rifle from his cold hands, and making his body double forward. Ed pushes himself forward, trying to take his attacker off balance and to keep himself from becoming a prisoner, but his attacker sends a hard blow to his injured shoulder, forcing the faint scabbing to break, warm blood to instantly seep under the sweater and Ed's lips utter an anguished cry. Seeing that he has hit a soft spot, his attacker does it again, ensuring Ed was only seconds away from becoming his prisoner.

"Down you go," his attacker snickers as he instantly pounces, pulling out a zip tie and capturing Ed's wrists behind his back, Ed trying desperately to pull himself free; his entire body shaking with fresh pains as his injured shoulder screams at him for relief. But it was to no avail. To add insult to injury, before he can call out his attacker shoves a cloth into his mouth to keep him from warning Wordy and then pulls the black toque down over his eyes, rendering him captive and blind.

"Ah now I got my bait. See we both can play the bait and wait game. Time to lure in your partner."

_Damn it! _Ed curses as he offers an angry mumble as he struggles in vain.

"Up you go," the man roughly pulls Ed to his feet; the commotion with Wordy still going on behind them. Seeming not to care, the man turns Ed around, facing into the forest and with a firm grip on his arm forces him ahead. "You stall and I'll kill you right here and not even bury you in a shallow grave."

_Better a quick death then what Lockhart has in mind if we're taken to him, _Ed's mind grumbles as he tries to yank himself free. But another firm tap to his injured shoulder from the butt end of the gun, sends a painful stinging reminder that he better comply – or else.

With his heart about to beat out of his chest, Wordy finally reaches the edge of the forest and rests a few more seconds. But as he hears a grunt followed by another angry command he knows he has to rescue Ed and even the odds – hopefully for good this time.

"Yeah Lockhart has something special in mind for you. And don't worry I know your partner will be following," he hisses in Ed's ear with smooth confidence. "I'll string him along a bit further."

_Wordy…don't fall for the trap! _Ed's mind laments as he's shoved forward once more.

"You boys were coming close to actually getting out of this god forsaken place – we couldn't allow that to happen."

The more the man talks, the more Ed comes to recognize the voice – it was the first male voice that had greeted them the day before – offering them their ill-fated welcome, starting the hunt and sending them on their way into the bleak frozen hell they were still stuck in.

"I don't much like the cold but you boys gave us a real run for out money _this time_," he pauses with a small snicker before he stops altogether. He pulls Ed's captive frame back a bit as he turns to look for Wordy who he was sure was following. Upon not seeing him, Ed's captor frowns but waits in place.

Praying the large pine would keep him hidden, Wordy holds his breath and waits; having seen Ed and knowing what he now was up against. He had also gotten a glimpse of the weapon in the hands of the man holding Ed hostage and then looks down at the rifle in his own grasp; the weapon was feeble, almost crude in comparison. He'd need all the luck he could manage and a clean shot if there was to be any hope of getting Ed out of his clutches alive.

"He'll tire of the game soon…and when he does I'll be waiting," the man snickers as he pushes Ed forward a few more steps. "After all, he wants what I have and that is you."

_Bastard! _Ed grumbles in anger, earning himself a hard shove in the back to keep moving and quit stalling.

Wordy carefully pokes his head out from behind the tree and then starts to carefully pick his way forward, glancing down every few seconds to make sure he wouldn't step on something that would crack and give his location away; as it was he was sure his footsteps on the hard ground were already telling Ed's captor that he was following. But not fooling himself into thinking that Ed's captor was oblivious to his location, he keeps the rifle ready, cursing the fact that their skilled hunters knew to keep all weapons on low ammunition just in case. But who's the man that has Ed? Lockhart himself? Is that possible? Would he actually put himself out here like that? He needs a good look to know for sure.

Wordy watches the man starting to slow thanks to Ed's faking a stumble, darts behind a large tree once more, crouching low and once again holding his breath.

"Shall I call him out and end this right now?" The man snaps at Ed as he grabs the back of his jacket and tries to haul him upright once more. With his hands restrained behind his back and unable to properly see through the black toque over his eyes, Ed curses the fact that he can't render Wordy much aid in his escape and knowing his best friend only has one bullet left in the gun it would have be a dead shot.

Wordy hears the man talking and tells himself once they are on the trail, line him up and take the shot; and pray it's a kill shot or would wound him enough to allow Ed to get free and him to get there to take him out for good. But as soon as he breaks cover from the tree, the rifle in his hands is instantly raised as he is forced into a situation he didn't want; an armed standoff with the odds seemingly stacked in favor of the man holding his helpless best friend in his cruel grasp, a sharp buck knife pressed firmly to his throat, and Ed unable to do anything but await his fate.

"Office Wordsworth," the man states slowly. "Be so kind as to drop your weapon. If not, your partner here is dead by a slit to his throat. I will only ask once."

XXXXXXXX

"Okay thanks Tony…I do appreciate that," Greg replies as he hangs up and then looks at his team with a heavy frown.

"Can he get there in time?"

"About half hour," Greg states with a heavy sigh.

"That's counting on the fact they are there. I mean it's almost three thousand square miles to search. Where does he start?"

"At least his chopper has special infrared they use to search that place. Picking up heat signatures should be easy out there in the cold."

"And you can trust this guy?" Jules inquires directly. "What if he…"

"Guys we don't have a choice here," Greg starts, thankful that both Shelly and Sophie were in the other room tending to their families. "At least if Tony tells us they're there…"

"If they're still alive," Spike ponders with a heavy frown before he looks up at Sam and then Greg. "Just sayin'."

"Lockhart is known for these sick games. I hope your friend Tony isn't going alone," Raf informs them.

"He's got a few with him that he can trust and we are just gonna hafta to do the same. If he finds any evidence they were even there, I have another chopper on standby for all of us."

"In the meantime?" Jules wonders.

"Get some rest. I know you have all been up all night and…"

"Boss, we'll rest when we know they're safe," Sam interjects. "Or when you do."

"I really wish Ed's hadn't taught you all to be this stubborn," Greg softly smirks.

"He didn't," Jules looks at him with a knowing glance.

"'sides it's too early in the day to sleep now," Raf comments. "We're just gettin' our second groove on."

"Right well...I just need to make sure that if we do get the call to go and help we are all in top fighting shape."

"We won't let you down boss," Spike nods as he speaks for the team.

"Okay I'll see about getting us all some fresh coffee," Jules remarks.

Greg watches Jules leave and then turns and slowly heads for the window, gazing outside into the wintry day and frowning; Sam coming up on his right, Spike and Raf hanging behind.

"You survived stuff like this Sam…what are their chances?"

"No jackets…no guns…no way to call for help…" Sam's lips muse softly, prompting Greg to look over in wonder. "Would depend on the condition they were left in. No injuries, they'd have a better chance. At least they have each other and a strong bond – that will count for something. But…boss that landscape is cold and harsh and I doubt Lockhart gave them survival kits or much of a fighting chance."

"Grim huh?"

"Never say never though right?" Sam counters as he looks up to see the three women watching him expectantly. "They're gonna be okay," he tries to tell them with a reassuring tone as he looks back at Greg with a frown. "I'm sure they have a plan right now and are okay," Sam concludes fatefully.

XXXXXXXX

Teetering on his heels due to the position his captor had placed him in; his throat unable to swallow due to the knife pressed firmly against this throat, Ed grumbles as his tongue works in vain to push the thick cloth out of his mouth.

"Stop struggling," his captor hisses in his ear.

_Wordy…_Ed's mind calls out in frustration. He pictures the scene…Wordy facing them – gun drawn but only one bullet to use. His captor shielded by his own body and any attempt to remove himself from before him to give Wordy a clean target forces his captor to counter until he finally feels a small droplet of blood slowly sliding down his neck and halts in place.

"Want to know why Constable Lane here finally stopped his ever useless struggles?"

"Drop that knife or I drop you," Wordy demands; a bit relieved that at least the high powered rifle wasn't the weapon he was forced to face off against.

"It's because he can feel the slow trickle of death sliding down his neck; the color of it be crimson," the man holding Ed hostage sneers at Wordy.

"I said…"

"I am the one holding all the cards here," the man replies matter-of-factly. "I can see you are shaking…would it be from the cold or _something else_?" The man mocks, forcing Ed's teeth to bit down hard on the gag and his mind to curse. But in that moment he recalls Wordy's words from when he had just told the team about his Parkinson's and that he'd be quitting Team One. In fact it was _the main _reason that he gave for quitting Team One. In that second Ed's mind recoils.

_'I'm not perfect and you guys need me to be…because one day my hands are gonna catch a tremor and your lives are gonna be in em…it's not worth the risk.'_

Wordy's face utters an angry wince upon hearing the taunt as he takes a step closer, the man before him pivoting, taking Ed with him another step backward. But in doing so he sees the small stain of blood on Ed's neck and knows the man before him isn't bluffing, he is slowly cutting Ed's throat. However, he also knows that if he does surrender they are both dead anyways – either way it was a lose lose situation if a solution isn't presented and fast.

_Eddie…_Wordy's mind laments as he feels his hands starting to shake again. His mind too in that moment remembers his ill-fated statement and curses. This wasn't just any life in his hands; it was the precious life of his best friend for well over twenty years. The slightest tremor in the wrong direction and Ed would be dead by his own hands. How could he live with that? He knows he can't. _Damn you Lockhart!_

However, as he had forgotten to put his gloves back on from the scuffle he reasons that the tremors could also be from the cold. But…as he had also gone nearly twenty four hours since his last dose of medication – it could be the dark entity inside him coming to the fore. Either way he has one shot…one chance to keep Ed alive and kill the bastard about to kill him. That was it, time was running out and there would be no second chances at a redo if he missed. One bullet – one shot.

Feeling his heart rate starting to slow, but the pounding in his ears starting to gain strength, Wordy's fingers relax for a few seconds and then quickly recurl back to original position; ready for action. He starts to gauge the distance between the man's forehead and the side of Ed's head; it was a narrow margin and no room for error.

The space around him hushes into dead silence, as if the great trees in the forest themselves were now all standing at rapt, silent attention; waiting to see if one man's brave quest to save his friend would end with the right people left standing. Or would this be their silent and final witness to two soldiers who bravely fought an uphill battle only to near the finish line and never get to cross it?

Wordy waits as Ed tries to pull his head a bit more to the left; his captor's lips offering low mocking laughter into Ed's ears as he counters, filling the frigid space around them and his very his soul with nervous anxiety as he watches Ed waiting for his death sentence to be commuted.

_Wordy…buddy, I know you can do this…I know you can. Take the shot…just take the damn shot. Kill this guy and en…_

***bang*  
**

Wordy doesn't wait for another verbal threat, taunt or invitation to act; Ed's head had moved just enough to the left, opening up a target of smooth flesh a few inches wide; beckoning the bullet to nestle there. The rifle in that moment seemed to steady, as if an unseen grip was finally there to lend a hand, wanting to give them a fighting chance and even the odds – at least for the moment. With the rifle steady, and without thinking twice, he eases back on the trigger and prays that Ed and his captor exactly in place a few more seconds.

They both do. It was over.

Ed's ears explodes with the sound of the bullet leaving the chamber and his body instantly jerks in response to not knowing where it had finally came to rest. He feels something soft and warm splatter on the exposed part of his cheek and nearly loses his footing as his captor's dead body starts to fall to the ground, the knife leaving his grasp and slamming to the ground after bouncing off the toe of his boot.

"Ed…hold on!" Wordy shouts as Ed struggles to remain upright from his former position. He feels himself starting to fall backward but once again his savior's hand reaches out, grabs the bottom of his jacket and tugs him forward into his waiting grasp.

"I got you…" Wordy whispers almost out of breath as he yanks the cloth from Ed's lips and then pulls the toque off his head. "I got you."

Ed takes a few deep breaths and nods…his mouth too dry to even thank his best friend for just saving his life.

"Wordy…" Ed gasps for air.

"Okay hold on…" Wordy instructs as he picks up the knife and starts to saw away at the tight plastic keeping Ed restrained; this time his hands sure and steady, determined not to cut any more flesh and get them both on their way once again.

Once he's free, Ed grabs the cloth that used to be his gag and dabs his neck and then wipes his captor's blood from his face before showing Wordy his neck.

"Just a small scratch. Okay lets…" Wordy starts only to have Ed's hand grab his arm and stop his actions.

"Wordy…"

"You're welcome," Wordy replies with a small smirk. "What is it?"

"You lied…"

"What? When?"

"A few months back…you said one day our lives...would be in your hands…remember?"

"Yeah Ed, I remember…what's your point?"

"Today my life was in your hands. Wordy you took that shot…you took the shot, you saved the hostage. There was no hesitation. I'm just sayin'."

"You couldn't see me."

"You saved the hostage."

"I can't come back...you know that," Wordy looks at Ed with a tight jaw; Ed holding his gaze a few seconds longer. "Let's get going."

Not wanting to push the tension further, Ed replaces the black toque on his head, tosses the bloody cloth and heads after Wordy, the empty rifle still slung across his shoulder; mostly for effect if they were to run into any of the baddies, neither of them having any weapon with ammunition left in it. About ten minutes into their run they both stop to once again catch their breath, Ed turning and looking behind them and then back at Wordy with a frown.

"What did you hear?"

"I uh…"

"Ed?"

"I thought I heard a chopper…maybe it was nothing…I don't know," Ed shakes his head as he turns back to Wordy with a grim expression. "Maybe it was nothing."

"Or maybe it was Lockhart getting desperate. We gotta find that main road. We get there…we get a car and drive to the nearest pay phone and call the team."

"Not the locals?"

"Lockhart probably has the Sherriff and all his boys on payroll," Wordy comments. "I don't know anyone out here we can trust."

"Right…let's keep moving."

Ed follows after Wordy, but his mind storing away the brief but distinct sound. _Was it a chopper? And was it help? Or just our hunter use another means at his disposal? _Either way, they weren't going to wait around to find out.

XXXXXXXX

"What did you find Tony?" Greg asks as he looks up at his team in wonder, the five of them huddled around the small speaker phone of the RCMP police safe house.

_"We're scanning an area now on the south east corner of the reserve. We're sticking to the areas with what look like vehicle tracks and very little in the way of wildlife on the infrared sensor. We found an area that has a lot of trampled grass and some fresh tracks in; both vehicle and what appears to be human. We're following them now. Gotta tell ya Greg…this area is very desolate and unforgiving and if your men are as ill equipped as they are…"_

"Just keep searching Tony," Greg implores in a soft tone as Shelly appears in the doorway. "Call back when you can."

"Anything?"

"Maybe," Greg replies with a heavy frown. "No one is getting hopes up or letting them fall…we're just…"

"Waiting," Shelly concludes.

"And we all know how much we love that," Spike pipes up. "Right?"

"Right," Sam agrees with a soft grumble as he looks at Jules and frowns. "They're gonna make it."

XXXXXXXX

Ed and Wordy run for about another twenty minutes before the trees start to slightly thin and the landscape change; the horizon starting to lighten – they were nearing an end of the park.

"Hold...up," Ed lightly pants as he stops, desperately trying to get his heart rate under control and his head to stop pounding. The wound on his shoulder must have scabbed over again as he could no longer feel warm blood seeping down his shoulder. But it didn't matter how much of a mess he arrived home in, he just wanted to get home in one whole piece – and alive.

Wordy looks at Ed's face and frowns as he leans in closer and gently flicks away a small piece of wooden debris still attached to the sticky blood from the head wound the last hunter had inflicted.

"Thanks," Ed states softly as he quickly grabs Wordy's hand before he can completely turn away. "I'm sorry for pushing you back there."

"No you're not," Wordy smirks. "But it's okay…taking that kill shot…and of course saving you…it felt good."

"I know…"

"But…" Wordy holds up his hand to stop Ed, mid-sentence. "But it coulda gone horribly the other way and you'd be dead…we'd both be dead because you know I'd never live with myself if I…it was pure dumb luck."

"I'd still take you back…in a heartbeat," Ed confesses with a serious tone, making Wordy smile and then nod before he offers Ed a warm pat on the back. "I know…let's keep moving. And you seriously wanted to fish in this weather."

"Minus the blood thirsty bad guys? Yeah…and we are still going…next weekend," Wordy retorts firmly.

"Both of us?" Ed counters with a small chuckle. They run for about ten more minutes before both stop short and stare a few meters ahead in disbelief. A road had finally presented itself to them. Salvation? Or another path to doom? They near the edge very carefully, Ed readying the empty in case they needed to flag anyone down; they wanted the gun to at least _look _like a viable weapon.

They reach the edge, carefully keeping themselves among the trees, praying for a car to come along so they could get away from the park, call the team and get back home; formulating a plan to go after Darren Lockhart next.

"Which way do we keep going?" Ed inquires with a small frown as he looks up and down the desolate road.

"I have no idea. Keep going to the right and see what happens…hope for the best."

Ed gives Wordy a firm nod as they continue on foot, their minds pushing beyond the limits of mental fatigue and physical exhaustion. But knowing that to slow could mean certain doom, they keep pushing forward, desperate to find something…anything they can use to send a message of help. About five minutes later they around a small bend and both stop and look ahead in wonder.

"Monitoring station?"

"Yeah could be, but they might have a phone," Ed comments as they pick up their pace to a swift sprint, nearly the small station; the helicopter now by Milton's place.

_"Greg," Tony starts on his phone. "We just left a house owned by Milton Rogers. Found evidence that your two men had possibly been there. Truck was taken and we found it shot up and smashed into a tree not far from the house and then footprints. They could still be alive as the truck was warm. We found blood and..."_

Ed and Wordy slow their pace as they near the small building, each praying for a miracle and deliverance. Wordy gestures for Ed to go around to the right; unlike them approaching the hunting shelter in the darkness, they could see what was in front of them.

Just before they reach the door, both of them hear a noise behind them and turn to see a young man looking at them in wonder; his hands instantly raising as Ed raises his gun.

"Don't shoot," he states in haste. "What um…what's going on?"

"We're police officers and we need a phone."

"Uh sure my dad is working out back and you can use the one in the office," the young man gestures to the small building.

"Anyone else around here?"

"No, just me and my dad."

Ed nods to Wordy who heads for the door and slowly pulls it open and peers inside.

"Hello!" Wordy calls out before he enters.

"What are you doing out here?"

"My dad is an engineer and he um…he fixes the electric fences and such. Where did you guys come from?"

"Car broke down a ways back. Wordy!" Ed calls out as he twists his head slightly and then looks back at the boy who shrugs. But upon hearing only silence, his agitation at his silent friend surges. "Wordy!" Ed slowly heads for the opening to the building as another figure appears beside the teen.

"He's not available. Can I help you?" A somewhat familiar voice inquires.

Ed's brain quickly registers the voice and his heart rate automatically explodes as he slowly turns away from the building to come face to face with an evil smile.

"What did I tell you about being out in the cold? You'll catch your death," he winks. "You really should drop your empty weapon Constable Lane," he calmly requests. "You are outnumbered."

And just as the rescue helicopter crests the top of the first forest clearing, Ed slowly turns back to toward the building to see four men with loaded automatic rifles pointed right at him; Wordy's unmoving frame on the ground a few feet behind.

"Game over," an evil whisper taunts as the four men cock their triggers, and Ed's world comes to a dead stop.

* * *

**A/N:** *ducks for cover* any guesses as to who the last man to aide in their capture is? (hint you've met him before hehe) Or will Tony's group get there in time? Will team one be able to assist in the rescue? Or has Ed and Wordy's luck run out for good and it really is game over for them both? Please do review before you go as it fuels us to write faster and thanks so much!

**PS:** Today is my one year anniversary writing flashpoint fanfiction. I ventured into the fandom a year ago today and have no plans to leave anytime soon :) so more stories on the way and hope that's okay!


	7. Team One – Hot Call

**Title: On Deadly Ground  
****Chapter 7 – Team One – Hot Call **

**A/N: **Okay so in RL The Chapleau Game Reserve is about 9-10 hours out of the GTA (Toronto) but for the purpose of this story its not lol so if you wanna flame why? I just said I know its not lol

* * *

Ed looks at the man before him, it was the same man that had stopped by the side of the road when he had got the flat from the bullet to see if he was okay and then sped off with a mocking laugh, telling him not to catch his death; the same man who did the same to Wordy – now the circle was complete.

"Did you shoot my tire and Wordy's?" Ed demands, not knowing that the team had already uncovered who actually shot the bullet; Leon Matthews, who Ed had taken out the day before.

"It was done…basically just to piss you off, but not by me. I wouldn't have missed," the man smirks, making Ed grit his teeth. "Your stubborn refusal to die might be admired by some but really is considered annoying to my employer."

"Happy to disappoint," Ed growls as he holds his ground, refusing to lower his weapon, his ears picking up the odd sounds in the distance once again, signaling him to stall for time. But that wasn't to be had as the four men loom in a bit closer, taking away fighting distance from the beleaguered team leader.

"But this ends now and you are coming with us. The easy way, with you lowering your weapon, means less hurt for you right now. Or the hard way – with us forcing you."

"And later?" Ed grumbles as two men march up to him and physically wrestle away the gun.

"Later? Later you'll be praying for death," the man quips as he looks at Ed with a firm gaze. "Bring them both. Lockhart awaits his captives."

"You'll never get away with this. My team knows where we are," Ed tries to bluff.

His final hunting captor merely snickers as he nods to his men to get on with their task. Ed struggles in vain as he's once again restrained and dragged toward a waiting van, Wordy's unmoving frame being brought along as well; telling him that his best friend was at least alive. But for how long? As they near the van, Ed's ears pick up the distinct sound of the chopper in the distance, his eyes darting over toward his captor's and noticing the narrowed gaze; his mind actually feeling a few seconds of elation at the fact that maybe team one did manage to find them and help was indeed on the way.

But that feeling is short lived as Wordy's unconscious frame is dumped onto the floor of the dark van beside him, the doors slammed shut, sealing out the light and the van and other car peeling away in haste. _Come on boss…you hafta find us…_

XXXXXXXX

After hearing more details about what Tony had found at Milton's house and upon learning that the DNA found on a small blood stained piece of cloth next to a bullet was a positive match to Ed Lane, team one left Shelly, Sophie and their families in the protective care of a few uniformed officers at the safe house, raced to the waiting helicopter and were on their way toward the Chapleau Game Reserve. Although Milton was alive, he merely said he didn't know what Tony was talking about and that his dog found a piece of bloody cloth hunting – there was no crime in that.

"Can't believe that old man is on Lockhart's payroll," Sam muses as he looks at the pictures of Milton's house in the kitchen where Ed and Wordy had been, the part on the table where the small blood speckled item was found.

"Well am glad that this Tony is on the up and up," Raf pies up as he looks at the pictures of the truck Tony had sent them. "They are putting up one hell of a chase."

"But the encouraging part is the chase is still on," Greg reminds them all. "That means we still have a chance of getting there before it's too late."

"Ed was shot," Sam ponders gravely, making the rest of the team look at him in wonder. "Just sayin'…that's gonna strain things even further and could slow them down depending on how bad the wound is."

"Yeah doubt Lockhart will go easier on them with Ed injured."

"Especially now that he's had a taste of their blood," Jules adds with a somber tone.

"I know that…I know but…" Greg starts only to be interrupted by another phone call. "Tony…good news?"

_"Fraid not," Tony's heavy voice sighs on the other end of the phone that only Greg can hear, the option of putting it on speaker in the noisy helicopter not an option._

"What'd you find?"

_"A few more bodies."_

"A few…okay…have you…ID'd them?" Greg asks, drawing four sets of wondering eyes in his direction in an instant.

_"Yeah none are your men…we've marked them and called for them to be picked up but it's put us back a bit. We are heading for the main road now as it appears that's the direction they are heading. So far we aren't picking up any more heat signatures but we aren't giving up yet. They might have gotten into a car or…"_

"And if they did…they'd find a phone and call…if they could. Okay Tony thanks. Keep me posted."

"What's up?" Raf asks in haste.

"Three more bodies, two shot sniper style and one still unconscious but none our guys. Tony can't see their heat signatures; but it seems they headed to the road and might have made it."

"Hopefully picked up by a friendly," Jules sighs.

"They'd have called if they could," Sam mentions in truth, making Jules look at him and frown.

"It's a big park and they don't know their way around. We'll rendezvous with Tony as soon as we can and then…from all indications they survived the night and are still alive," Greg states firmly.

"Boss!" Spike exclaims excitedly, making everyone look at the small blinking text button on the phone in his hand.

"It is call from them?"

"No. I have a friend who I asked to monitor Lockhart's activity and he just picked up a small tidbit of Intel that said Lockhart was heading out to a meeting with some out of town guests…and the letters CGR follow next."

"Chapleau Game Reserve?"

"Spike when was that time stamped?" Greg queries before anyone else can.

"Two hours ago. Lockhart could well have gotten there, set another trap and…"

"Damn," Raf curses in anger. "If they were picked up by someone then…"

"Hopefully it wasn't by Lockhart…after all that…he'd kill them for sure."

"Unless he wants to toy with them first," Sam adds. "He's the general of the opposing army and they are the spoils of war right?"

"Torture?" Spike asks softly.

"But it could buy us some time," Jules ponders.

"Can this thing go any faster?" Greg's panicked voice bellows as he quickly calls Tony.

XXXXXXXX

"Ahhhhh…" Wordy's lips make a small, moaning sound as he slowly opens his eyes and tries to get them to adjust. As they tries to focus and work on stopping the dimly lit room from spinning, Wordy's mind flashes him images of his final moments before his world went dark. He had entered the building in search of a phone, heard some shuffling behind a door that was slightly ajar, went to investigate and walked straight into a trap. He didn't even have time to turn and warn Ed about the small army waiting to ambush them as his world went dark and he could only pray his best friend survived somehow.

Wordy forces his eyes open a bit more and then slowly tries to sit up, his chest aching, head pounding and overall frame in dire need of a hot shower and warm soft bed. As he rises, his right hand gingerly touches the bump on the back of his head, their newest location finally coming into view.

It was a cold, darkened dungeon like-cell, no windows, the smell of death, dried blood and mold all assaulting his senses in a matter of seconds. He frantically looks to the left and sees Ed's unmoving frame a few feet away – both of them now missing their warm jackets, boots and sweaters. Wordy notices the dried blood on Ed's shoulder and leans in closer to examine the angry wound; pulling back with a soft curse and a frown.

Ed's weary eyes look up into the familiar face and frown, his mind flashing back images of him in the van, his wrists crudely bound in front, Wordy unconscious frame at his side. He kept asking where they were going, but was only rewarded with a few harsh 'shut up's' before another hit to the side and his questions subsided. As he felt the van starting to slow his agitation surged, they weren't that far from the park. Lockhart had actually travelled to meet them? This wasn't good. Then it wall went black. Until reality was forced upon him once more.

"I look…that bad?" Ed's soft voice lightly quips, making Wordy look back at him in haste.

"Yeah."

"Wish I…woke up…at home," Ed grumbles as he takes another painful breath.

"Yeah me too. Just rest a minute," Wordy instructs as Ed's face winces heavily as he tries to sit up. "We aren't going anywhere, anytime soon."

"Where…are we?"

"Hell, Constable Lane," the smooth tone of the ultimate mastermind of their ill-gotten fate, Darren Lockhart is heard. Both Ed and Wordy turn to gaze upon their captor; a man resembling Eric Roberts and dressed smartly in an expensive dark suit, flanked on either side by two well-armed bodyguards. "You are both in hell, welcome to my lair."

"Guess that's fitting for the devil," Wordy replies with a heavy sigh. "What do you want Lockhart? Why these damn games?"

"I'd like a word with you Officer Wordsworth. You and your team have been a pain in my side for far too long."

"My team? Who on my team is on your payroll?" Wordy demands in anger. "Who set me up?"

"Well why don't you come with us right now and we'll have a chat about that."

"One sided?"

"I do prefer to hear my voice over yours," Lockhart smirks.

"Wordy…no," Ed states with a heavy frown, trying to push past the pounding in his head. Lockhart gives Ed an amused expression before he looks toward a darkened area of their dungeon like setting and both Ed and Wordy watch as two more heavily armed men arrive to do their master's bidding.

"Constable Lane, we are going to leave you all by yourself for a little while…please try to behave," Lockhart, continues as he pushes a button and the door opens, four of the men stepping into the cool, damp cell. Both Ed and Wordy ready themselves for another fight, pushing past the pain in their bodies, and both trying to keep the inevitable from happening. It was a losing, one sided fight.

"Wordy!" Ed grunts as he tries to pull his best friend free of the grasp of Lockhart's men; but his efforts are in vain as Wordy's struggling frame is dragged from the cell between two of the armed thugs, the other two wrestling Ed to the back of the cell and then leaving it; Lockhart pushing a button and letting it slam shut, sealing Ed inside once more.

"You'll pay for this…" Ed vows in anger.

"See you in hell Constable Lane."

"WORDY!" Ed shouts as he watches all of them disappear and the light is turned off, bathing him in eerie shadows and sickening silence once again. "DAMN YOU LOCKHART!" Ed yells as he hits the bar with the flat palm of his hand and then pulls back, cursing once more and praying for some divine intervention. He slumps back against the cold stone wall and closes his eyes for a few seconds, his heart rate starting to pick up. "Wordy…damn I'm sorry," his lips utter in anguish before he slowly opens them and starts to look around. He could rest later – now it was time to look for either a way out or way to help give him the upper hand when Wordy was brought back. _He will come back won't he?_

XXXXXXXX

"Okay I see them…set it down there," Greg instructs the helicopter pilot. The chopper barely touches the ground when Greg leads the way, the rest of team one jumping out after him and heading toward Tony and his small team at top speed.

"Okay we'll save the intro's for later. Tony what do you have?" Greg asks the man before him; a man with a sort of Sam Elliot-like resemblance.

"It seems like your boys were here and then taken by vehicle."

"You know where?"

"I think I do," Tony replies gravely.

"Darren Lockhart has a stronghold up here doesn't he?"

"He does and my guess is he's taken them here. About twenty minutes up the road for us; a bit longer by van, if that's what they used."

"What are we up against?"

"Fort Knox."

"You know we're going in," Greg nods with a serious expression.

"And my men are here to help out any way you need them. But just don't expect a walk in the park."

"Am more of a fort knox guy," Greg smirks as he looks over at Sam. "Sam, you'll run tactical here. You and Spike ride with Tony's team. By the time we land, I want an attack plan on every front, electronic surveillance included. Guys I don't have to remind you what's at stake. Lockhart has them and hasn't called it in…that means this is a fight to the death."

"Bring it on," Raf easily comments as he fist pumps Sam.

"Let's go get our boys," Sam remarks.

"Okay let's move out!" Greg calls as the small band of armed officers disperses to their designated helicopters; two trading places with Sam and Spike to give the rest of team one a heads-up of what they could expect. Time was indeed running out – for all of them.

_Hold on Eddie…Wordy…we're almost there._

XXXXXXXX

Despite the throbbing pain from his shoulder, Ed pushes past the ensuing weakness, desperate to keep his mind busy and focused, away from the gnawing silence and what horrible things his best friend could be enduring at the hands of their merciless captor. At least in the woods they had a fighting chance; but he never saw the last trap, or if he did was too tired to anticipate Lockhart's evil countermove and spare themselves this tormented detour of which he fears the ending is already set in stone – a tombstone.

Ed slowly paces the small cell, not sure if he was being watched via closed circuit camera of if this place was too archaic to have that setup and was merely used for Lockhart's murderous diversions.

"Come on Wordy…" Ed's lips mumble as his left hand gingerly feels the chewed up wound on his right shoulder. The skin was hot and puffy around the wound and his fingers come away with sticky sludge, his mind cursing the fact that the wound wasn't healing properly but there was nothing he could do to ease the suffering. He didn't want to contemplate how the rest of him looked as the skin around and above his right eye was swollen and throbbing and blinking was difficult on that side. But there would be time to worry about his overall physical wellbeing later – escape was the only thing on his mind right now.

Ed's fingers feel every inch of the wall, hoping…praying…offering silent pleadings that he'd be able to find something he could use to even get himself out of the cell and find a way to get to his best friend who he is sure is suffering needlessly. Just as he reaches the darkest corner of the cell, his fingers brush against one of the bricks, then moving away and feeling the piece of stone shift under his grasp. With a renewed sense of purpose, Ed starts to dig at the brick until the modest sized stone comes away in his hand; it wasn't much but in an angry and concentrated fist it could do some damage. That's what he was counting on. Now to get their attention and hopefully get out.

"HEY!" Ed shouts as loud as he can, coughing slightly before he tries again, his chest sore and lungs dry but his brain urging every part of his body to just keep going – they weren't done yet.

"HEY OUT THERE!" Ed shouts once more, using the small stone to bang on the bars, hoping to get someone's attention so he could lure them into the cell and get himself out. He didn't care that it was winter outside and he was missing his boots and coat; he'd rather take a chance with frostbite and hypothermia than stay one more minute in the hospitality of Darren Lockhart.

A few minutes later Ed finally picks up an angry curse and heavy footsteps heading his way, hurries to the back of the cell with the stone fixed firmly in his grasp and slumps down, not moving. The man Lockhart sent enters the dimly lit cell area and looks at Ed's unmoving frame with a scowl.

"What the hell do you want!" The man demands as he bangs on the bars with the butt end of his gun; Ed not moving. "I said…hey are you listening to me?" The thug shouts in anger once more, Ed still lying in wait, praying for little rouse to work. Wondering if he was really dead and figuring he had a gun to protect himself with, the Lockhart thug opens the door with the electronic key and slowly heads toward Ed's still frame.

Not wasting one second, Ed's free hand shoots out, grabs his leg and gives it a good yank. The surprised man's frame slams to the ground with a painful thud, his lips uttering an angry curse as he tries to counter. But driven on by the fear of a very painful death and the welfare of his missing best friend Ed pounces, rolling his weight onto the thugs and using the stone fixed firmly in his right palm to hit the thug in the temple, sending his head snapping back onto the cold stone floor.

The man counters with a hit to Ed's side, causing Ed's frame to recoil slightly but doesn't dampen his determination to get the upper hand and win the first battle. He swings at the man's head again, clipping him in the jaw and snapping his head to the right. Resisting the urge to give up the stone and wrestle for the gun, Ed hits his captor's head once more, his time his opponent stays down. Ed rolls off his body, resting on the cold floor a few seconds to catch his breath, begging for his vision to fully clear and the pounding to stop so he could focus and get to Wordy. A few seconds later he's up on his feet, gun in hand and heading for the exit he saw the man come through.

_Hold on Wordy…I'm coming._

XXXXXXXX

"Okay be ready everyone, as soon as we crest that hill our birds will be heard and Lockhart will go into war mode," Tony's voice is heard over all the headsets.

"Sam you ready?"

"Everyone has their task boss…we are," he looks over at Spike who gives him the thumbs up and nods. "Spike is gonna cut the alarm feed, but we need the power to see. That place has no windows, so going in blind won't be good for any of us."

"Our priority is Ed and Wordy…we'll worry about arrests and such later," Greg reminds the team. "He won't give them up to any kind of negotiation – we know that. But we don't want a needless blood bath either. Precision is the key here team."

"Greg, we're ready to land."

"Boss, I'm ready to cut the power."

"Here we go team," Tony looks at Greg and nods. "See you on the other side Parker," he states firmly, making Sam look up in somewhat surprise.

"The first soda's on me," Greg nods to Tony.

"Copy that," Tony agrees as the helicopters prepare to touch down.

"Okay team one…lets go get our boys. Spike…now."

XXXXXXXX

Ed slowly moves through the darkened hallway, cursing the fact that the pounding in his ears from his heartbeat was keeping his senses dulled rather than alert. He nears the bottom of a stairwell and pauses, his eyes quickly scanning the area up and around to see if there were any hidden cameras or surprises he wasn't aware of; not realizing both were watching and waiting.

With the loaded weapon fixed firmly in his grasp, Ed carefully starts up the stairs, holding his breath as he nears the top and praying for a break – any kind of break to find and rescue his best friend. But just as he nears the top destiny decides it was time to intervene and lend a helping hand. Loud, angry shouting is heard from the right; Lockhart's distinct voice heard over the newly forming commotion. A loud bang is heard followed by an angry rumble, slightly rocking the solid fortress and at once dimming all the little red security lights that Ed notices in the hallway he was about to venture down. Help had finally arrived!

"Team one…thank god boss," Ed utters in relief as he prepares to remove himself from his hiding spot. With help now there, he could concentrate on finding Wordy and getting him to safety; team one would keep the bulk of Lockhart's goons occupied. Not wasting any time, Ed removes himself from his hiding spot and races toward Lockhart, figuring that's where Wordy would be.

But as soon as he emerges from his hiding spot, he's met with gunfire and quickly darts back into the alcove protecting his weary frame. Ed fires back, determined not to give up now that the finish line was so close in sight.

XXXXXXXX

_"Greg, my boys are picking up sounds of shots being fired inside, that's a good sign that your boys or at least one of them is still alive."_

"I'm banking on both of them being alive!" Greg calls out as he hurries after Raf, the two of them taking the east side, Jules and Spike taking the west side and Sam going right through the front door with Tony at his side. Tony slaps on a piece of plastique with a few seconds timer, him and Sam taking cover before the heavy front doors to the fortress are blown wide open; the other three on Tony's team, coming in the back or south facing side.

"Come on Ed…where are you?" Sam's anxious tone, although whispered over the loud confusion, echoes loud and clear throughout every headset of those on the rescue mission.

Ed ducks behind the alcove as another shot is fired, cursing the fact that he was pinned down by a lone gunman; the real fighting seemed to be in another part of the fortress, not coming toward him – yet. Biting back his weariness, Ed steps out from cover, drawing out the gunman and firing at him before he can take another shot, rushing past the now fallen body toward the center of the breached stronghold.

"Wordy!" Ed calls loudly as he nears a large center opening and stops short, just as a few more automatic bullets start to decorate the stone walls around him. He utters a small curse but is thankful that his already battered frame wasn't sustaining anymore injuries; his mind, however, still determined to take on anyone between him and his prize no matter the physical cost to him.

Just before he can take out the man impeding his progress, a few shots are heard from behind the thug trying to shoot him, taking him down and out of the count. Not worrying to see which of his team members it was that had come to his rescue, Ed carries on, pushing himself past the large center opening and charging down another narrow dimly lit hallway, following the sound of who he thinks is Darren Lockhart.

But just as he reaches the end of the second hallway, a strong fist literally comes out of nowhere, punching him in the stomach and forcing him to stumble backward. He had finally found what he was seeking.

"Wordy!"

XXXXXXXX

_"South side secured," Tony's men mention for all to hear._

_"Boss, Jules and I have reached the main security room. I see you and Raf…two guys heading your way."_

_"Copy Spike…can you see Ed or Wordy?"_

_"Hold on. Sam you have…"_

_"Tony behind you!" Sam calls out as he and the Chapleau team leader start to tussle with their two attackers._

_"Boss…I see Ed…he's fighting with…oh I see Wordy too…guys he's in bad shape."_

_"Spike, we have company!" Jules calls out as she watches two approaching their control room._

_"Spike, where's Ed?" Both Greg and Sam ask at the same time._

XXXXXXXX

Not caring about the pain now ripping through his frame as he tries to get the upper hand over the man protecting Lockhart, Ed brings his right elbow up and clips the man in the jaw, snapping his head back and allowing Ed to put another elbow into his mid-section and sending him crashing backward into the stone wall, Ed's fist punching him in the nose, breaking it and sending him back yelping in pain. Using the butt end of the gun, Ed ends the fight and then pauses for a few seconds to catch his breath, his tongue rebelling at the taste of copper in his mouth, blood from his lip that the fight had produced.

"Wordy!" Ed calls again as he hears gunfire behind him starting to get closer. He hears some shuffling ahead and bolts, Sam and Greg reaching the large center area and eyeing the aftermath of Ed's firefight before pressing on. Ed reaches another staircase and slowly descends, the cool darkness, sending out loud warning signals to the determined team leader to turn back now. But that was a course of action he wasn't even contemplating.

"Foolish," is all Lockhart calls out as he grabs the edge of Ed's jean bottom and pulls, Ed unable to brace himself for the fall and taking a nasty tumble down the rest of the stairs, the gun going flying and his tired and sore body coming to rest in a mixed-up jumble of arms and legs.

"You and your friend…" Lockhart shouts as he marches up to Ed and kicks him in the stomach, forcing Ed's frame to recoil, his lips calling out in pain.

"Have caused me…" another, sending Ed retreating back and instantly impeding any rescue progress on his part.

"Nothing but trouble!" Lockhart shouts; no kick following this time.

Ed looks up and notices Wordy's slow moving frame a few meters away and instantly his mind flashes images of three little girls, three sad teary faces, all begging him for answers as to why their daddy didn't come home but he did. That was a future he wasn't going to help bring to fruition. He feels his teeth grit and summoning up every last bit of energy – waits.

"That ends right now!" Lockhart shouts once more as he prepares to fire and finish off Ed for good.

"Ed!" Greg's voice is heard, distracting Lockhart for a split second but long enough for Ed to push himself to his knees and lunge. Their bodies slam into the floor behind Lockhart, Ed now driven on by desperation. He punches at Lockhart and then rolls away just before Lockhart can pull him back.

"BOSS!" Ed calls out with a cough as he looks at the gun and tries to get it. Lockhart grabs onto his stocking'd feet and pulls, bringing Ed back to his knees and uttering a gasp of pain, but not deterring him for good. Despite the fact that he knows a boot would have made more damage, Ed kicks back, catching Lockhart in the side of the head and breaking his hold.

Ed claws at the floor, pulling free and nearing what he thinks is a loaded gun on the floor next to Wordy; Sam finally catching up to Greg and both of them starting down the stairs; the battle behind them starting to wind to a close.

"Wordy!" Ed shouts, desperate to have his best friend at least move and let him know he was okay.

"It's over Lane…prepare to die like your partner," Lockhart hurries for the fallen gun, grabbing it and turning to face Ed just as Ed makes his move.

"Never…" Ed heavily pants as his fingers grasp the weapon and he turns and fires, no waiting to reason – no hesitation. Although as his finger pulls back it seemed as though the odds were once again stacked against them and this really was the end. The gun was empty. Ed's eyes narrow in anger as he tosses the gun away and then reaches Wordy, putting his own battle weary frame in front of his best friend. Lockhart looks at Ed and utters a low mocking laugh, making Ed seethe.

"Admirable…but foolish."

"Bastard," Ed curses in anger.

"Ed…" Wordy's lips finally whisper as he remains on his stomach in pain; Ed still on his knees in front of him, shielding him body from certain doom.

"Ah prepared to die with your eyes open…defiant to the end. I really don't admire defiance Constable Lane, I hate it," Lockhart sneers as he cocks the trigger.

"Go…to hell," Ed lightly pants as he looks right at Lockhart, wanting to keep him distracted to the movements behind him.

"You first."

***bang***

For the second time that day, Ed's weary frame instinctively jerks in response to the sound of a bullet being fired, leaving the chamber and meeting its mark. But it was finally time for destiny to smile in their favor; Ed's somewhat watery blue eyes watching as Lockhart's dead frame slowly falls to the stone cold ground, Greg's figure with his gun raised coming into clear view; Sam on his flanking side – backup, just in case.

The battle was over – the right side had finally won the war.

* * *

**A/N:** *and repeat after me….deep breath* and again *deep breath* haha still with me? Okay so yeah had to squeeze in as much peril and tense action as I could into the ending but you know the fight was always fixed for team one right? Hehe again with so much action had to focus on only a few so hope that was okay. So up next a happy ending and then new stories so please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	8. The Spoils of War

**Title: On Deadly Ground  
****Chapter 8 – The Spoils of War**

* * *

"Wordy," Ed whispers as he tries to help Wordy sit up so they could leave as fast as possible.

"Ed…hurts."

"I know it does but I gotta get you outta here."

"You…saved my life."

"Wordy…" Ed groans as he wills his body to stay upright long enough to help get Wordy uprighted also. "I got you…my turn now," Ed slightly smirks, his body on the verge of a complete physical collapse. But just before his weary arms can give way under Wordy's weight, Sam is at his side making sure he stays upright and completes his mission.

"Raf…I need you and Tony down here to help get our boys out. Spike, call the local coroner and whatever RCMP detachment is responsible for this; not the locals. Bring in the big boys."

_"Copy that boss. How are they?"_

"Alive," Greg replies with a small smile as he watches Sam kneeling down beside Ed at Wordy's side.

"Wordy…can you sit up?" Ed inquires softly as he slowly turns his best friend over to face him; his own face mirroring Wordy's wince as he does. Wordy had gone a few rounds with Lockhart's men and it showed; the criminal mastermind not taking any pity on the courageous father of three. But in the end, there were no broken bones and no permanent damage done, just a few bruises, scrapes and cuts that would be tended to and heal.

"Eddie…" Greg's hand gives Ed's uninjured shoulder a comforting squeeze, his warm dark eyes fixed on the angry looking wound on Ed's shoulder.

"Boss…thank god for…your timing," Ed manages as he takes the cloth Sam had handed him and gently dabs away some of the fresh blood around Wordy's nose and mouth.

"Ed…"

"It's over…good guys are here," Ed nods to Sam, making Wordy twist his head to the left and look up and smile.

"You both had us worried," Sam replies with a heavy frown as they both help Wordy slowly sit up. "But I knew you'd be okay," he concludes as Raf and Tony hurry to their side.

Ed watches Greg and Tony head over to Lockhart's unmoving corpse and feels himself inwardly curse and heave a sigh of relief at the same time. But it was time to go home, so Sam, Ed and Raf help Wordy to stand up, Raf taking Wordy and Sam supporting Ed's weary frame as they all head for the stairs, Greg lingering with Tony and thanking his long time trusted friend for his invaluable help at the right moment.

"You know when I got your call…you sounded…strained."

"Sorry…I didn't know who I could really trust but I was desperate and took a chance. I know it's been a few years."

"I'm glad you did…it was the right one," Tony replies with a smile as he extends his hand and then takes Greg's. "I'll take care of this stuff here."

"You sure?"

"Go take your boys home to their families."

"Thank you."

"Keep in touch. I still want that soda."

"Copy that," Greg chuckles, making Tony chuckle also as Tony's team leader, Ian walks up to them.

"Ian…we got work to do."

Greg leaves the rest of the war zone in Tony's capable hands as he hurries up the stairs and rejoins the rest of his team now gathered around Ed and Wordy on a bench inside the inner courtyard.

"I just called Shelly and Sophie and told them we got them both and they are alive and we're all heading home," Jules informs Greg with a warm smile.

"Medi-vac takes too long to get you outta here…can you survive the police chopper ride back to TO?" Greg asks as he sits down beside Ed, Wordy slumped onto his right shoulder.

"Yeah boss…that's fine," Ed manages with a weary gaze. "We just wanna leave."

"Ed's sick of being…in the country," Wordy quips as Ed nods, making them all lightly laugh. After having stripped some boots and jackets from Lockhart's fallen men, Sam gently drapes one around Ed's tired shoulders, telling him to just rest his wounded shoulder, Wordy able to actually pull on the jacket, slowly and with some help.

With the help from the team, the two of them are finally escorted to the waiting helicopter, the sounds of sirens heard in the distance looming closer; a comforting sound to all those still waiting. Ed and Wordy slowly ease themselves down onto one of the benches, Sam and Raf opting to take the floor for the shorter ride home, Jules, Spike and Greg on the other bench. Greg watches Ed struggling to remain awake and gives him a small frown.

"Eddie…just close your eyes…you're both safe now. We'll hear the stories later."

"How'd you know? I mean even where to look."

"Yeah…doubt Lockhart would have left you a note," Wordy frowns.

"We followed Lockhart's trail of breadcrumbs…" Greg starts.

"He means bodies," Sam interjects.

"Plus a call from a worried wife."

"Which one?" Ed wonders.

"Shelly."

"Was her turn," Wordy replies with a warm smile.

"And a few other things, help from an old friend and pure old fashioned luck."

"Your timing…coulda been better," Ed lightly teases Greg.

"I know. You look like you survived hell."

"We did – literally."

"That Lockhart…he's one messed up dude," Raf notes.

"And determined. Glad you have friends up here," Ed tells Greg directly.

"I'm just glad Tony is as honest as I remember. He told me most of the force up here is on Lockhart's payroll."

"That'll change with him gone," Wordy replies with a heavy frown. "And at least one person back home will be unemployed over all this"

"Another insider?" Sam wonders as Wordy nods. "Who is it? Did you ever find out?"

"Bobby Ryan…Spencer's cousin. A rookie on our team."

"Your team employed Spen…"

"He came with the name Robert Lineman…covered his tracks but good. Lockhart figured I wasn't going to live to tell and his MO is….was his arrogance. So he told me."

"Well you can do the honors tomorrow. Right now you are heading for the hospital to get checked over and home."

"Even I'm not gonna argue that one," Ed pipes up, earning himself a few smiles before his tired eyelids finally fall shut and he slumps into Wordy a bit more. Greg looks at the two beat up best friends huddled together asleep and smiles. Sam's words were right…it was their close bond of friendship that kept them fighting at each others side right to the end; neither giving up on the other in spite of the seemingly insurmountable odds stacked against them. It was admirable. But as he ponders the stuff that the two of them had to survive he feels his agitation soar and wonders if two regular men, strangers, would have been able to accomplish what they did. Or if they hadn't found the right clues if they'd be attending a double funeral this weekend instead of reading of Lockhart's?

They near the hospital and neither Ed nor Wordy puts up much of a fuss when two stretchers are presented, both of them literally collapsing on top of the clean sheets and allowing themselves to be wheeled into separate examination rooms; their wives now in the waiting area for their release.

"Alright team one…you have all earned the day to go and sleep…"

"But we were just getting started," Spike lightly teases, earning himself a few groans.

"See you all tomorrow."

Greg watches Sam, Jules, Spike and Raf all accept grateful hugs from Sophie and Shelly before they head for the door, Clark at the safe house with Izzy and the girls waiting for their father's to return.

"How are they?" Sophie asks in haste.

"They've both taken quite a beating," Greg frowns. "But I gotta tell ya…seeing what they survived, it was their close bond and love for their families that got them through all that," Greg assures them. "In a few days they'll be okay."

"A few days?" Shelly asks in surprise.

"Less?" Greg quips as the three of them settle into a bench in the ER waiting area. About half hour later, Wordy is the first to breach the ER doors, rushing into the arms of his wife and holding her close a few seconds longer. Sporting a small limp, a few cracked ribs, a few facial and chest bruises, Shelly pulls back and looks at her husband in wonder.

"I'm okay," he assures her warmly. "Ed's getting his shoulder stitched up," Wordy informs them as he gives Sophie a brief but warm hug. "He's gonna be okay. He saved my life."

"You'd do the same for him," Sophie acknowledges.

"He already did," Ed replies as he slowly heads toward them, looking just as worse for wear as his best friend; both also suffering from the lingering effects of hypothermia.

"I'm glad you're safe," is all Sophie manages as she holds onto Ed before finally letting go. Greg gets a bit more scoop before he tells Ed he'd see him on Monday and then finally takes his leave. The four remaining adults walk to Ed's Ford Flex in silence, Wordy's van still being fixed after it had been removed from the wrecking lot; the dog already recovered and adopted by a better owner. They talk briefly about their ordeal as they head for the safe house, picking up all the kids and then heading to Wordy's, dropping off Wordy and Shelly and then heading home.

"I'm almost too tired to say thank you for everything you did…Ed if you hadn't come out of that cell when you did…" Wordy's words die out as he looks at Ed with a strained expression, his tormented gaze lingering on the ring blackened purple around Ed's right eye.

"You save my life a few times back there also…we're even," Ed smirks as he gives his best friend a warm hug. "But you promise me that you won't try to arrest Lineman without me there."

"I think I owe you that much," Wordy nods, before he pulls back with a small worried expression. "Ed back there…"

"No Wordy…it's okay…I know…okay I know. Just get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow."

"No Ed…I didn't mean to come down on you about the whole tire thing."

"Yes you did just like I meant to badger you about coming back to the team when you only had that one shot and saved my ass. Guess we tend to bring out the best and worst in each other. Keeping that from you was a mistake."

"At least we are both here to make amends for it," Wordy replies with a heavy sigh. "See you tomorrow."

"Okay," Ed answers as he offers Wordy one last smile and then watches Wordy head for his house with Shelly's arm around his waist; before he gets into his own car and heads for home.

As soon as they get home, Ed slowly heads upstairs, wanting nothing more than to take a hot shower and crawl into bed – two actions his family willingly allow; Sophie telling him she'd have something waiting for him to eat as soon as he was up. Ed surveys the dark circles on his chest and then looks at the black eye on his face and small cuts on his cheek and lips from their near death ordeal in the woods and then in Lockhart's lair. His shoulder starts to complain a bit louder as he strains it upward, pulling his arm back down and telling himself that he'd have to use his other arm in the meantime. Not caring about getting the fresh bandaging wet, Ed stands under the warm streams of water for what seems like a small eternity, the last of the hypothermic shivers finally dissipating and his entire frame starting to relax. With the warm shower over, Ed redresses and then literally collapses into bed until supper time; his body more than thanking him for the muchly needed rest.

Ed rubs his weary face as he slowly sits upright in bed and looks over at the clock, it was dark outside now, the temperature dropping as per the winter theme; but inside was warm and comforting. His sleep for the most part had been fraught with tormented nightmares but his body was too physically exhausted to wake him from the dark realm of light slumber until it was ready; Ed awaking not as mentally refreshed as he would have wanted. Nevertheless, at least he would only have to worry about a hearty meal and more rest before taking on the day tomorrow. Despite the fact that it would be Sunday, he knows Wordy wants to get the business with Robert Lineman out of the way and then start fresh on Monday without having to worry about another Lockhart lackey watching his every move.

"Wow dad you look tired," Clark mentions as Ed slowly enters the kitchen and nearly collapses into the chair beside Clark.

"I feel it," Ed groans as he rubs his face and then looks at Sophie with a heavy frown. "But I'm okay."

"Ed…"

"Just the shoulder…we got off pretty lucky actually," Ed answers in truth as he takes Izzy into his arms and starts to bounce his happy baby girl on his knee.

"Dad you have a black eye and a big bump on your forehead."

"Lockhart is known for his torture of cops so…actually we got off pretty lucky. A few close calls but um…we got the ending we wanted."

"And some guy who Wordy works with was in on this?" Clark wonders.

"Yeah. He had suspected someone on the inside but at least Lockhart's arrogance served us well before he died, he gave us the name," Ed explains. "Wordy and I will arrest him tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow? Dad…tomorrow's Sunday," Clark pipes up.

"Cops still work on Sunday's," Ed retorts, making Clark roll his eyes. "And it's just an arrest. Greg called for the warrant on the ride back to TO so everything's in order. But I do want to be there for the arrest. I owe it to Wordy to back him on this."

"And then you'll just rest right?" Sophie arches her brows in haste.

"Is that an order?" Ed teasingly retorts.

"You better believe it is," Sophie answers flatly.

"Well I think it's an order I might actually want to follow," he assures her with a firm nod. The rest of the evening at both houses is spent telling their families as much as they wanted, not all the near death details as both wanted to spare the children nightmares; each spouse getting the rest of the horrific story alone in private. Ed looks up from his warm nest of covers as Sophie enters and gives her a small smile.

"I'm glad you didn't tell Clark all the details. Wanna talk about them?"

"Was just um…hell," Ed sighs as Sophie climbs into bed beside him, looking at him in concern. "Nearly lost my best friend out there…and all I kept thinking was…this is my fault."

"Why?"

"Don't know," Ed slightly shrugs. "I know Wordy wouldn't blame me…"

"Then maybe you should take his cue."

"I want him back on the team," Ed replies simply as he leans over, kisses Sophie on the forehead and then turns off the light, slipping down into the bed a bit further; his body wanting nothing more than to sleep but his mind alert now and replaying the events of the past two tormented days in his head. Finally his mind forces his eyes to close for the last time that day and whisks him away into another tormented realm; nightmares replaying over and over again.

Ed awakens first on Sunday morning, his body stiff and sore and wanting nothing more than to curl back up next to his wife and sleep the entire day. But with his mind still anxious to get the last piece of the puzzle put into place, Ed slowly gets out of bed and heads downstairs to start the coffee; Sunday always being their day to have pancakes, bacon, fruit and of course strong coffee.

After the coffee maker was set, Ed gently heads upstairs to Izzy's room, plucking his fussing baby girl from her crib and just holding in his arms, gently rocking her back and forth, her face lighting up at the sound of her father's comforting voice. Ed's lips kiss the top of his baby girls head before he leaves her room, taking her with him downstairs to check on the coffee and finding his son in the kitchen.

"Clark? You're up early," Ed comments as he enters the now aromatic kitchen.

"Yeah…uh I couldn't sleep."

Ed hears the strained tone in Clark's voice and then looks at the tense expression on his face and starts to develop a tense feeling in his stomach. "Clark…about what I told you yesterday."

"Dad its…it's okay," Clark replies weakly. "Just um…well I overheard what the guy who kidnapped you and Wordy was um…you know into."

"Into? What do you mean?" Ed wonders.

"Hunting men…Spike uh…he found some sick things and I just…I hoped you and Wordy didn't have to go through any of that."

"I didn't know…Clark, I'm so sorry…I didn't know. Mom didn't tell me you heard all that."

"She didn't know," Clark confesses. "She thought I was sleeping but…um. What really happened out there dad?"

Ed looks at the expression on his teenage son's face and frowns. It was always his policy to tell the truth, no matter how painful, learning from a small boy the folly of lies and their painful consequences. But if he was to tell everything, Clark would have even more nightmares than he would right now.

"Clark, you know our family policy is to always be honest with each other but I gotta tell ya…it was hell okay…hell," Ed sighs as he hold onto Izzy a bit tighter.

"I can take it dad."

"Watching stuff on TV and knowing it's not real and that an actor is being paid to do whatever and then he just gets up and goes onto the next isn't the same as hearing um…well unsettling details about your father and his best friend nearly dying."

"But dad…"

"It's also hard for me to talk about," Ed tries another tactic, putting it back on him. "It wasn't easy and it uh…it tested each of us in every way possible. Our close bond helped but it was hell. Lockhart's dead and Wordy and I get to make one more arrest and then…that's it."

"Okay," Clark states with a somewhat glum tone.

"Maybe after the nightmares have died down for both of us okay?"

"Sure," Clark answers with a small smile, Ed's anxiety not lessening at his son's less than enthusiastic response. But he knows that if he was to tell Clark right now all the trials he and Wordy experienced, facing near death more than once, his son would have more nightmares than he is now. His real plan was to hope that Clark got past the notion of even wanting to know; would be less heartache for all of them. Sophie soon joins them and the conversation quickly changes to the rest of the plan for the day and what new words Izzy was trying to create.

XXXXXXXX

"You know I coulda done this with one of the locals," Wordy smirks as gets into Ed's Flex.

"Sophie had a few things to do anyways and then we're all gonna go out for lunch. How's Shelly."

"Asked me about taking a desk job," Wordy remarks with a heavy frown as they head for the precinct to get the warrant and then head for Robert Lineman's residence. Wordy watches Ed's jaw tighten about the comment and purses his lips. "Ed…"

"What did you tell her?"

"What do you think? Would _you_ take a desk job?" Wordy counters. "The answer is no. Not unless you are forced to or come back as an instructor after retirement."

"I worry."

"About me? Can I return the favor?"

"Crime bosses don't target me specifically."

"Yet," Wordy retorts, making Ed shake his head. "'sides you look a little rough this morning. And I know…I do too. I'm just saying."

"I know it was a rough couplea days," Ed states seriously. "But these past few days were a real wake up call. Makes you realize that each moment you need to spend making it count…"

"And less work?" Wordy smirks, making Ed look over and reward his best friend with a soft smile as well. "That was directed at you."

"What?"

The two of them get out of the Ford Flex, head inside where Wordy goes and gets the warrant, rounds up two on duty officers and then heads for Ed who was putting on a vest over his sweatshirt, not wanting to get into full gear if he didn't have to. The arrest of Robert Lineman was a mere formality but as they head there, Ed can't help but wonder how far it went and if everything would be okay for his best friend after this last arrest. It's true that Lockhart was dead, but in this kind of game, cutting off the head of one snake didn't necessarily mean the body died; it only meant another would step up to claim the body and rebuild the corrupt empire once again.

"Alright, let's get this done," Wordy tells Ed as they stop outside Lineman's place and prepare to enter; the other two officers right behind them. He bangs on the door with angry determination and then both wait the few moments until they hear the door starting to open.

"Kevin?" Robert asks as he opens the door and looks at the armed group at his door. "It's Sunday…what's going on? And what happened to you?"

"Robert Lineman, aka Bobby Ryan," Wordy pauses as he looks at the man before him with a small scowl. "You are under arrest for…"

"Wait what? Arrest?" He asks in shock. "Kevin, have you gone mad?"

"He's serious and if I were you I'd listen and listen good…it's the last chance you'll get," Ed adds in anger.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Robert Lineman you are under arrest for accessory…" Wordy's voice trails off as he next gestures to the uniformed officer to his right to cuff Lineman and take him into custody. "I'll do the rest of the paperwork tomorrow," Wordy tells the other officer, mere moments before he joins his partner.

The two of them stand on Lineman's walkway, watching as the RCMP cruiser pulls away and then both of them heaving an audible sigh of relief as he disappears in the distance.

"It's done. The rest will wait until tomorrow. Thanks for helping with this."

"Never liked that guy," Ed remarks, making Wordy lightly chuckle as he pats Ed on the back. "Right from the start."

"Really?"

"What can I tell ya…intuition."

"Oh right," Wordy lightly mocks, making Ed arch his brows in amusement as they both turn and head for the cruiser, to get back to the precinct and then back home to carry out the remainder of their day. "You know…if you ever wanna switch out…"

"What, back to guns and gangs?" Ed looks over in surprise at Wordy's suggestion. "What about you coming back to the SRU?"

"Okay how about a new place? Traffic patrol?" Wordy lightly chuckles as they continue on to the precinct, lightly arguing about which branch of law enforcement they could both see themselves working together as partners. "Okay I'll talk to you sooner but…see you Saturday."

"Do we hafta get the live bait again?"

"Trust me Eddie, the worms don't bite," he snickers.

"Funny," Ed deadpans. "Well I better catch a big one next weekend or else."

"Yeah how big? This big? I think you can handle that size," Wordy jokes as he holds up his two fingers and shows a few inches, making Ed just roll his eyes and then shake his head.

"And the minivan?"

"I'll have it back tomorrow," Wordy answers in truth they head for his home, their conversation turning back to the fishing trip at the end of the week ahead but neither of them mentioning Wordy's future career plans. They finally arrive at Wordy's house and briefly make small talk before Ed pulls away and heads for home. Ed gets a few things done around the house before it was time to take his family out to lunch he promised; something they all happily pile in the car to do. After the enjoyable outing was over, they all head back home, where Ed departs from his family to head upstairs and crawl into bed to get a few more hours of rest.

But as suspected his sleep is restless and fraught with distorted visions; nightmares twisted and turned every which way, forcing him to wake up with a sudden gasp in a heated sweat. Ed slowly pushes himself from the bed and pads toward the bathroom, dousing his flushed face with cool water and uttering a small sigh at he stands upright and looks at his anguished reflection in the mirror.

As much as he didn't want to hear it, Wordy was right, he wouldn't settle for a desk job unless he was forced to by either the province or a serious health issue; he was front line law enforcement until the end, that was the way of it. Wordy was cut from the same cloth which is why the two of them got along so well for so many years; closer than his own brother. But telling himself that tomorrow was a new start, Ed heads downstairs for supper, spending the last few hours of the day in some quality family time before getting to bed early for an early start the following day.

XXXXXXXX

"Eddie," Greg greets his somewhat refreshed looking team leader the following morning.

"Boss," Ed walks up to him with a nod. "So…everything settled?"

"Got a call from Tony last night…everything over there has been taken care of and I understand the arrest yesterday went off without a hitch?"

"Wordy's team now has to deal with cleaning up the aftermath," Ed replies with a heavy sigh as he pulls his locker open, allowing his concerned sapphires to rest on a picture of him and his best friend taken a few months back at the summer picnic.

"He's gonna be fine," Greg's warm voice is heard as his hand rests on Ed's uninjured shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze, much like the gesture he had given Ed right after Lockhart was killed.

"I know," Ed replies as he looks over at Greg with a smile. "Just um…"

"Yeah…you want him back. A few days of near death and relying only on each other brought back memories huh."

"Boss…we were in the woods…one of the hunters had me…Wordy he…boss he took the shot. There was no hesitation…no wavering…he took the shot, he saved the hostage."

"The choice was his, you know that."

"I know," Ed repeats with a heavy sigh. "I know. So how do you know Tony?"

"About ten years ago…"

"Wait boss…ten?"

"Yeah same time my life went to hell in a hand basket. Funny no one ever asked me who my partner was at the time."

"We just assumed…never asked but…it was him?"

"Yeah that case hit us both hard; but we were both heading for disaster before that. His vice was gambling; caught him real bad. He lost everything. The case just before the one that grounded me involved two money launderers and a large sum of money went missing. They fingered Tony. It was an inside job and we he was set up. I knew he was clean but after I fell…Ed I started to turn on him also. I regretted that but was lost just as much as him. Well when I finally came to my senses and started on the road to recovery, he was gone…took a job up north before he landed in Chapleau. Then when Spike made the connection for up there something inside me told me to call. I almost felt guilty coming to him now after all this time…"

"He didn't mind."

"I know but…but I shoulda kept in touch more," Greg confesses with a heavy sigh.

"Well this is as good a new start as any right?"

"Right."

"Glad he was there."

"Yeah…me to," Greg smiles.

"Ah there he is," Raf walks into the locker room with a warm smile. Ed turns and looks at the newest team one member and offers a kind smile in return. He would never hold anything against Raf as in truth he knows it was Wordy's decision. But Greg was right…those past few days just cemented their bond further and proved to Ed that Wordy was still in fighting form – that wouldn't diminish anytime soon. At least that's what he would keep telling himself.

"Hey…welcome back," Sam greets Ed and the rest of the team as the morning is finally in full swing. Opting out of morning workout, Ed heads for the team one meeting room to work on the reports he hadn't finished the week before; settling down into a chair and trying to force his mind to get down to business. But as he looks at his hands and notices a slight bruise on top, he thinks back to that moment in the woods. He was blind and helpless and yet he knew Wordy wouldn't fail him. Twenty years…they still had it; the unspoken bond that would never be broken.

"Alright…let's get this day started," Greg comments as he enters the meeting room, the rest of team one entering behind him, Spike and Jules also offering their warm welcome back's before it was time to get their SRU game faces back on. And unlike the week prior, this week slowly ambles through with routine but tiring hot calls, talks with his best friend about a few tense guns and gangs round ups, family time and of course resting for the big weekend ahead.

XXXXXXXX

"Okay seriously how much stuff are you bringing?" Wordy breaks into a warm bout of laughter as he watches Ed walking toward him with his arms full.

"What? I don't like the cold okay?"

"Even Shelly doesn't bring this much stuff."

"Okay so Sophie was paranoid."

"Oh yeah sure blame her," Wordy smirks as he opens the truck of their family car, Shelly having the mini-van for the day. It was early Saturday morning and despite it being winter, the sun was out and it was crisp and clear – a perfect day for an outing.

"And you got the bait last night right?"

"Any more complaints and I'm gonna use you as bait," Wordy chuckles as Ed closes the trunk and looks at him with a pursed-lip expression. "You are gonna be just fine."

"Secret spot?"

"Only the best for you. Now get in."

"So anymore fallout from Spencer Ryan?" Ed wonders as they both get into Wordy's car and pull away from Ed's home.

"He was still spouting bloody murder over all this but at least they won't be putting him and his cousin in the same prison; of that we are assured. The emails from Lineman tied him to the whole Chapleau thing and with the help from Greg's friend Tony we were able to make something stick so he'd be transferred up there."

"At least the two of them can't plot together."

"That we know of."

"Wordy…"

"I'm just saying what we are both thinking. Come on now."

"I don't want to argue," Ed states plainly. "I just worry."

"Saw the shooting at the track on Wednesday."

"Yeah that was a tough call," Ed replies with a small frown, his fingers absently fumbling with the black toque in his hands. "I don't want to argue Wordy but I can't help but feel that if I hadn't pressed you when I found out that…"

"That I'd still be with Team One?" Wordy finishes, making Ed nod. "Maybe…things are a bit better right now. The meds are holding their own and I've gotten into a good routine with them and…and with a lot of things. Hey at least I can opt out of the really tough calls right?"

"Right," Ed nods with a small tight lipped smile.

"I don't blame you Eddie…I never did."

"You did."

"I did at first…okay? I was pissed but that's done. You gotta let it go."

"I'm…trying," Ed replies softly. "I'm trying. Okay are we there yet?" Ed asks weakly, making Wordy laugh and gently punch him on the shoulder.

"Yeah…almost there."

The rest of the trip is spent talking about things in general: house renovations, team news, spouse happenings, childish antics and sports; work was sidelined and the heavy stuff shelved for when they were back in the real world to deal with it. Neither of them would toss aside the notion they, or the city were completely safe with Darren Lockhart out of commission, knowing that with both Ryan boys alive, the threat was still very real. They had long arms and deep pockets – someone else would happily step up to the plate to stake a claim, forcing them to up their game and always remain extra vigilant.

"This is the spot?" Ed asks as Wordy brings the car to a smooth stop before a small frozen lake with no one else around.

"Come on Mr. Skeptical…" Wordy smirks as Ed pulls on his black toque and the two of them exit the car, head for the trunk, grab their stuff and head for the frozen lake; Ed falling back to let Wordy lead the way. Ed stands back and watches as Wordy expertly cuts a hole into the ice, his mind holding back from mentioning how steady Wordy's hands were and how he should come back to the SRU; it was a tired argument and one that could potentially sour the happy mood of the moment. Instead he offers a small chuckle as Wordy sets up the chairs around the hole and then hands Ed his fishing pole.

"Okay what is that?" Ed inquires as Wordy pulls out a small shiny lure and watches his best friend affix to his hook.

"Allie made it," Wordy states proudly of the creation his daughter made especially for his trip. "Hey I had to use it."

"You get that and I get…this?" Ed lightly groans as he holds up a small dangling worm. "Someone's filming this right?" Ed comments as Wordy snickers, watching Ed's fingers trying to pierce the worm but being unable. "Okay I can't do this."

"You are seriously afraid to kill a worm? Trust me he'll grow back if he's bitten in half."

"That isn't comforting," Ed retorts as Wordy grabs his hook and the worm and puts it onto the end, Ed pulling it back and looking it in shock, making Wordy laugh harder. "I swear you better not tell Clark this."

"Just put that in the water already."

"At least mine looks official," Ed teases.

"Right like the fish care."

"Hey…I'm just sayin'."

"Wanna place a friendly wager to see who catches something first?" Wordy offers.

"My mangled worm over your…homemade appetizer?"

"First one to catch…the other has to clean."

"Right here?"

"I'll kill it for you first," Wordy winks making Ed shake his head but nod in agreement. "Come on...it'll be fun, even for you."

"Okay…deal's on."

The two of them sit for about twenty minutes, laughing, talking, drinking hot coffee and just enjoying each other's company, a close bond of friendship developed over the past twenty years and promised to be even stronger twenty years later; having faced the devil on deadly ground but fighting back and securing their future.

Then about fifteen minutes later one of the line's starts to tug…and then…a jubilant shout is heard…

"I got one!"

**THE END!**

* * *

**A/N:** hehehe okay so left it a bit open and you can speculate who got to do the killing and who got to do the cleaning. Well I hope you liked the ending to this perilous little suspense story. I had to give them some downtime in this chapter after all I had put them through and hope you all liked it. Please do leave me one final review before you go and stay tuned for more Ed/Wordy adventures on the way. Thanks everyone!


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